The Leather Mafia
by eleroo02
Summary: CIA partners Allan A' Dale and Will Scarlett team up with MI-6 agent Djaq Jay to take down the Black Knights...aka The Leather Mafia. Allan/Djaq/Will at the moment.... Rated for some language.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The usual...I don't own Robin Hood!

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Allan A' Dale looked around the house with a satisfied sigh as he slung his bag to the floor. He looked over to his right to see the serious face of his partner, Will Scarlett. "Well, whadda think, mate?"

"I think it a house."

Allan rolled his eyes even as a voice behind them spoke up. "I must thank you for your kind compliments then, Mr. Scarlett." The two heads turned to see the pretty face of Djaq Jay, house-owner and their newest partner. Allan gave a slight chuckle at Will's obvious embarrassment and helped himself to a seat at the counter.

"You'll have to give the youngster some slack," Allan winked at her. "Pretty faces make him nervous, plus he's under some sort of belief that he's funny."

Now it was Djaq's turn to roll her eyes, as she gestured for Will to also take a seat and walked around to the other side of the counter, placing down a thick folder. "First of all gentlemen, MI-6 would like to thank you for your help. We hear you are the best team the CIA has to offer, so let's see if you measure up," she said, throwing a look Allan's way. He responded to the challenge with a smile, but no words, prompting Djaq to continue.

"I am Dr. Saffiya Johnson from Sherwood Free Clinic, and currently renting out my house to you two. Allan, you will be known as Tom Black, an insurance salesman. You will be working at Clun Insurance, a known affiliate of the Black Knights. Will, or should I say Luke Carpenter, will be an engineering professor at Nottingham Community College. We want you, Will, to keep a low profile in case we need a face Vaisey hasn't seen, with me so far?"

The two Americans nodded, causing Djaq to give a tight smile and opening the folder to spread out various files on the countertop. "First, let me tell you about some of your new co-workers. Our boss on this project is Robin Locksley, known in the industry as The Arrow. You will more than likely never see him or talk to him, but he's the one giving out orders. If he needs to get in contact with you directly, he will more than likely send Bonchurch "Much" Miller, and yes that is his name. Here is a picture so you can recognize him, as he is a fairly decent "master of disguise" as you Americans like to say. His code name and/or word is 'Honey'." At Will's inquisitive look and Allan's bark of laughter, Djaq shrugged before pushing on.

"We do have a mole in the Sherwood police force, going by the name of Marian Knighton, code name of "Hawk" in your paperwork. She is Chief Constable Gisborne's assistant. It is a risky job, but she is one hell of an operative," Djaq told the two men, awe evident in her voice. "And that concludes your brief introduction to the good guys; now, we learn about the bad."

"We estimate that the Black Knights have been operating here in Nottingham for about five years, ever since Pippin Vaisey was elected to the city council. We have linked them to over ten million in missing funds as well as the suspected deaths of several officials throughout the city."

"Well, why don't you leak it out to the public, let them take care of it?" Will asked. "It has been done before."

Djaq bit her lip in silent thought before quietly admitting to her two new housemates. "We tried. They either have members in extremely high places or the best bribes and blackmail to be known. We fear even MI-6 is not safe from the Black Knights. The Arrow is doing this, let's just say, under the table. It is a mission of extreme importance and secrecy…"

Allan cut her off before she could continue her babbling. "Not being funny, miss, but are you saying that even the indomitable MI-6 are knocking boots with this, judging by the way they dress, Leather Mafia?"

"Well, that is a rather crude way of putting it Mr. A' Dale but yes, we fear they have infiltrated even our ranks. Mr. Locksley is putting himself in grave danger; he could lose everything if his superiors find out."

"Is the CIA aware of this?" Will asked, brow furrowed in thought.

"I'm not entirely sure of all the specifics to that question. The Arrow has a lot of contacts in the industry, which is what brought you here. That is all I know. You two have a reputation for using, what's the word, unorthodox methods and not always going by the book. We're hoping that will make you able and willing members of our little gang, so will you? Will you help us?"

The partners exchanged a heavy look before Allan nodded and turned to Djaq. "So basically, this Robin Locksley fellow wants to use us to go behind the back of the MI-6 to bring down a mob boss and fellow cohorts."

Will continued this flow of thought when Allan finished his sentence. "And we could both lose our jobs, not to mention our reputation…all for a cause that's not even ours to begin with."

The woman nodded, her eyes still glued to theirs in hope.

"Well, then," Allan continued. "It looks like this job is going to be even better than I thought!"

"What he means is that of course we'll help," Will said with a tiny smile of reassurance. "Crime is crime, and whether or not this is officially sanctioned, we need to take down the bad guys."

"Well said, my friend, well said," Allan exclaimed, clasping his friend's shoulder. "So now, Ms. Jay, what else do we need to know?"

Both men were momentarily blinded by the pure brilliance of her smile and couldn't help grinning broadly back. "Why don't we start with Chief Constable Guy Gisborne, Vaisey's right-hand man. Gisborne gained his position two years ago when the previous Constable was fired for unknown reasons. Since he's been in charge, there have been numerous cover-ups as well as a massive change in the roster until now practically everyone in the office is one of Vaisey's cronies- his own personal army. As to Gisborne's past, not much is known. He grew up at Holloway Orphanage and was taken under the wing of Vaisey at the age of seventeen. He has never been married and Hawk tells us he is prone to moodiness and desperate to prove himself. He seems a bit of a wildcard, and his next move is not easily predicted."

"So you think if we crack Gisborne, we can crack the Councilor?"

'We believe so. The Councilor is a man who believes in sacrificing anybody for whatever he wants; he's not really big on relationships of any sort. But the closest anyone has been ever to get to him is Gisborne, so he's our best bet."

"So what do we know of Councilor Vaisey?"

"Pippin Vaisey, the entrepreneur playboy turned politician. Son of Philip and Geraldine Vaisey, both deceased, he was educated at Eton and has run several businesses before turning to politics. He is a favorite of Deputy Prime Minister John Princeton and has a sister, Davina, who occasionally makes an appearance here in Nottingham. Outwardly, he appears as clean as a fresh wash but the Arrow has made some interesting connections linking him to various unsavory crowds as well as fraud, embezzlement, and murder."

"He sounds like a smashing guy," Will muttered.

"The specifics are in your folders, you each have a copy in your room. I will also show you the safes in each room where you can put the information when you are finished and keep your own notes. This is sadly not a government controlled or watched house due to the secrecy of this operation, so we have to make do with what is available. Would you like to see your rooms now?" Djaq asked while stretching to relieve the kinks built up while she was leaning on the counter.

When both nodded, she led them down the hallway and up the stairs. "The whole of the upstairs is for the two of you. You have your own small den and a bathroom to share."

"Don't want to share a bathroom with two men, Ms. Jay?" Allan asked breezily.

She just let out a light laugh and opened the door on the right. "Here is said bathroom." It was a tiny room but did include a shower, which Will was thankful for. That meant at least two showers in the house, and with his partner's known love of long, hot showers, he was hoping Djaq wouldn't be averse to sharing at least her shower with him.

Djaq then opened the door across the small hallway to a pleasant little room painted a light blue. It had a small bay window overlooking the street and a little bookcase in the corner just waiting to be filled. "I wasn't sure what room to appoint to whom," Djaq began. "So I'll let the two of you fight it out. Now this room is tinier but…"

"I'll take it," Will said, interrupting her. "I like the location."

Whereas she gave him a blank stare, Allan gave a knowing glare. By location, Will meant the bathroom, and Allan knew there would be some fights in the upcoming days over who got there first. Will threw his bags on the bed and followed the other two down the hallway and into the small den. It had a comfy looking couch as well as a decent sized flat screen television. On the opposite wall was a door, which led to the second bedroom. Allan's new room was indeed bigger, but had only a tiny little circular window almost at the ceiling, which let in little light. Will held back his snigger when the shorter man tried to look through the window but was unable to and cheerfully told Allan that the view was quite nice as it looked out into the backyard. Djaq led him to the closest and opened the door before reaching onto one of the shelves and opening a small compartment. "Here is where you can store any confidential material," she said. Just stack some shoes or something in front, and no one can tell anything is there. Will, since I forgot to show you yours, it is a loose floorboard under the bed. If you come with me now, I'll show you, and then I'll leave you boys to unpack."

Will followed Djaq obediently out the door and Allan got to work unpacking his few possessions and hanging his suits in the closet. Thumbing through his folder when he was done, Allan made a few quick notes in the margins before putting the information away; there would be time to look at it more closely. Now, he was tired and hungry; not the best state to be in when going over such important information. Deciding to check in on his partner, Allan walked down the hall and into Will's new room without a single knock or announcement. He found the younger man seated on the window seat, hands already occupied with a pencil and some sketch paper. Allan lay down on the bed, silent, and waiting for Will to speak first.

"Is it weird that my name is to be Luke?" were the words that left his mouth.

"A bit," Allan replied, eyes glued to the ceiling as he relaxed with his hands behind his head. "But then again, maybe they know how crap you are with aliases and so they thought to give you one you know."

"But my brother's name?"

"Are you going to be okay with this?" Allan asked, sitting up and casting a concerned eye to not only his partner, but his best friend.

"Yeah," Will replied softly, green eyes still staring out the window, seeing something beyond the cars and other houses Allan knew. Allan knew once his partner got into this funk, it would last awhile, so he was thankful for the cheerful voice of Djaq which permeated through even Will's haze.

"Are you guys hungry, because I'm thinking about ordering a pizza if you're interested?"

Allan bounced off the bed like a child, yelling downstairs. "I'm always interested in a pizza!! How does pepperoni, bacon, sausage, onions, peppers, and pineapple sound?"

Will smiled at Djaq's audible snort of disgust and allowed Allan to drag him down the stairs. He couldn't dwell on the past; he had a big mission ahead of him and the even more urgent goal of protecting Djaq from Allan's taste in food. But Djaq could stand up for herself, he learned, and as the bickering over veggie versus a heart attack escalated, Will finally stepped in, ordering a compromise between the two. And as the two agreed with an exasperated mutter from one and a pout from the other, Will couldn't help wondering if he would be able to survive these next few months.

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A/N: Tada!! And that concludes the 1st chapter of my 1st attempt at an actual story for Robin Hood...as opposed to my usual one-shots. I hope you enjoyed and Reviews are extremely welcomed and wanted...thanks :D


	2. Chapter 2

Will awoke the next morning feeling groggy and disjointed, not too unusual to how he felt every morning, but this time he could blame it on the jetlag. Several minutes were spent just curled under the covers staring at the door until a muffled voice interrupted the quiet. Allan seemed to be awake already and taking full advantage of the shower. Will believed it was impossible for his partner to take a shower and not serenade himself and any of the unfortunate souls around, usually at the top of his lungs. When they had to share a hotel room on past missions Allan had taken to yelling out dedications to young Will, spoken like a sappy radio DJ, before launching into some cheesy song from the '60s. Listening closely, Will tried to decipher the howled out lyrics and guessed the current song was "Rockin' Robin", a song his partner adored.

The singing continued for about another 30 minutes before the door opened and Will listened to Allan hum his way down the hallway. Flinging the covers off, Will half-tumbled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom for the daily ritual. Knowing the hot water would be no more for awhile, the sleepy agent decided to forego his shower for now and headed down to the kitchen where he ran into a semi-blurred figure. Reaching out to steady both himself and the person, Will lost himself in the bright eyes of who his sleep-addled brain eventually recognized as Djaq. "Morning, sleepyhead," she chirped.  
"I would love to chat but I have to head into the office to report to Mr. Locksley, and then its time to close some old cases; I hate paperwork. I'll be home for about two hours before heading into the clinic for the nightshift, so I'll see you tonight. Have a good day and my number is on the fridge if either of you two need me, bye!"

Will continued to stare, mouth slightly open, as the petite MI-6 agent chatted to him without once pausing for breath before giving a quick wave as she left the house with a briefcase in one hand and a half-eaten banana in the other. With a quick shake and an amused smile to himself, Will found some bread and popped it into the toaster before sitting down at the counter, resting his head on folded arms.

He could sense another presence in the room a split second before a wet towel hit him from behind. "Really?"

Allan just laughed as he headed into the kitchen to rummage through the refrigerator. "Sorry, Will. I couldn't resist."

"At least pick up after yourself! This isn't our house!"

"Sheesh, yes sir, Captain Clean."

Will rolled his eyes as he watched Allan come over to pick up the fallen towel and place it around his shoulders. "And would it kill you to throw on some clothes? What if Djaq was still here, do you think she would want to see that sight first thing in the morning?"

"You're right, that could be a problem. She might think she had died in her sleep and gone to heaven," Allan winked. "Besides, I'm wearing sweatpants, and I'm fairly certain she has seen a man's bare chest before. So, where is she off to so early?"

"She said something about heading to the office. I figure she has to report on the two of us to her boss."

Allan just grunted in response as he sliced up a banana to put on top of his cereal and found some sugar to also throw in the bowl. He sat down next to Will, who had just returned with his toast, and dug into his breakfast with vigor, barely having gulped down his first bite when he spoke to Will next. "Sleep well?"

Will shrugged, knowing Allan wouldn't push the issue. And he didn't. The two sat in silence as Allan finished his cereal and Will sipped his tea while taking the occasional bite of his toast. When Allan was finished he took his plate and mug as well as Will's mug to the sink before washing them thoroughly. He was just searching for the dishtowel when Will appeared, towel in hand, and took the mug Allan handed him. "So, what do you have on your plate today?" Allan asked his new helper.

"Not much," Will replied. "I have to meet some of the professors and the dean for a quick orientation and tour of the school. Otherwise, I have the rest of the day free; maybe I'll work on my lesson plans. I have to make it look real, especially since the school believes me to be so highly qualified."

"It'll be a cinch for you," Allan reassured. "Weren't you the top engineering student back at school?"

"Being a student is one thing, being a teacher is another," Will reminded the older man.

"True, but you'll be fine. What classes are you teaching?"

"Only two luckily, that's all a visiting professor is allowed. I'm going to be teaching a basic engineering 101 class with probably close to 200 students," Will said, face paling at the thought. "But I'll also get to teach a seminar which should be really fun."

"I won't even ask you to go into details, as I won't understand a single word," Allan said cheerfully. "But now, it's time for me to go get dressed for a busy day selling insurance."

"Are you nervous?" Will asked, following his friend up the stairs.

"Nah, you know me. I'm never nervous. As for selling insurance, when have you ever known me to not be able to talk a bee into buying honey?"

Will chuckled and plopped down on the couch, turning on the news as Allan got dressed. He was engrossed in a story about a local drug sting when Allan strutted out of his room and modeled for his partner. "Well, how do I look?"

"Like a successful salesman, ladies beware," Will answered with a smile. Allan did look good in his navy slacks, which he had paired with a white dress shirt and a pink and navy striped tie. The navy blazer was thrown over his shoulder and the blonde hair that was normally in disarray was gelled with the front bangs sticking up as was the popular fashion.

"Good, I'll see you tonight. And please tell me you're gonna take a shower, mate, cause frankly you stink."

"Bye, Allan."

With a jaunty wave over his shoulder as he went down the stairs, Allan grabbed his briefcase and headed out the front door. The rest of the neighborhood appeared quiet and knowing his new place of business wasn't far and he had the time, Allan decided to walk the mile or so to Clun Insurance, hoping the extra time would be enough to work out a strategy. He always did his best thinking on the fly, which led a lot of his fellow CIA agents to wrongly believe that he never liked to plan. In truth, Allan adored the mental challenge that came with guessing possible scenarios and actions for every reaction. _And this new job is definitely going to keep me on my toes,_ he thought.

The insurance building was of small but sturdy looking construction on the corner of a somewhat busy intersection with a modest sign stating Clun Insurance. Allan took a moment to center himself and strode in through the front door with his usual confident swagger. The door opened with a small buzz and Allan was greeted with the sight of a pretty blonde behind the counter. "Welcome to Clun Insurance," she said, with a professional grin in place. "How may we be of service?"

"Name is Tom Black," Allan said, holding out his hand. "I believe I'm your new coworker," he told her with a perfect London accent.

"Ah yes, Mr. Black, welcome!" the woman replied, her smile becoming more genuine. "I'm Annie Howard, the receptionist here. If you don't mind waiting one moment, I'm going to find Mr. Lambert."

Allan nodded and watched as she left her desk and headed to a closed door towards the back of the office space. Annie gave a soft knock at the door and waited for permission to enter, a small blush blooming when she looked back and saw Allan still watching. But within seconds she must have received permission for she straightened her back and slipped into the office, closing the door behind her. Allan wasn't even done checking out the rest of the office when the door opened again and Annie stepped out accompanied by a man whom Allan assumed was Mr. Lambert. He was of medium height, with dark brown hair and tanned skin. As he approached, Allan took one glance at the intense brown eyes and figured that this was a man who knew his own strengths, as well as the strengths of those around him.

With clipped strides, Allan's new boss approaches and firmly grasped Allan's hand in his. "Robert Lambert," he proclaimed. "Welcome to Clun Insurance, Mr. Black. I take it you've met Ms. Howard already?"

"Yes, sir. I have indeed met** Ms. **Howard," Allan replied, making sure to stress the Miss. The receptionist tended to be the backbone of any business; she would be the one to know if anything was amiss as well as any office gossip. Allan definitely wanted her on his side, and it didn't hurt that she filled a skirt nicely.

"Call me Annie, please," she said sweetly.

"Only if you call me Tom," was the quick response. She nodded and then gave an apologetic grin as the phone rang and she resumed her position behind the desk. Mr. Lambert motioned with his head for his newest employee to follow and started walking towards a desk in the corner. There sat a kindly looking gray-haired gentleman by the name of Benjamin Lyons who loudly and enthusiastically welcomed Allan to the company. He exuded both warmth and charm and Allan found himself liking the man immensely. Mr. Lambert waited for the two to finish talking, nodded to Benjamin, and shepherded the supposed Mr. Black over to another desk, where sat a raven-haired middle aged woman by the name of Sarah Bitter. In his first impressions, Allan found the woman nothing like her surname; though she came off as a bit flighty, she exuded the same warmth as Benjamin Lyons and Allan found himself flashing her yet another genuine smile. In the back of his mind he couldn't help thinking that if this business was indeed a front for the Black Knights, then they had one hell of a recruiting agency. It was either that, or these people were some cunning actors and clearly in the wrong profession.

Mr. Lambert gestured to indicate that the tour was not over and Allan followed behind, mentally compiling a profile of his new boss. He was both serious and no-nonsense, a man who was used to his every word being followed. He was also shrewd and had a brilliant mind that was constantly working, a trait that Allan respected and looked forward to testing. The next and final stop of the tour was a space in the back of the office, not far from Mr. Lambert's room, where two desks were shoved together. One cleaned off desk, which Allan assumed was to be his, faced towards Mr. Lambert's door, and Allan found himself silently praising this stroke of luck. At the other desk sat a man in his mid-thirties with sandy brown hair and brown eyes, studiously ignoring those standing near him.

Showing the first real emotion besides professionalism, Mr. Lambert sighed and cleared his throat. The man sitting down shuffled some papers together tidily before looking up, clearly annoyed with the interruption. His frown deepened when he caught the amused look on Allan's face as Allan held out his hand. "Tom Black, your new desk buddy it would seem."

"Roger Stoke," the man replied, his voice just this side of posh. He neither took Allan's hand nor offered any other form of greeting before getting back to the papers in front of him. Allan looked to his new boss and saw the impatience in the man's eyes as he spoke to the uncooperative Roger.

"Mr. Stoke, I'm going to take Allan into the office to fill out some paperwork. When he comes back, I want you to answer any questions he has; do you understand me?"

Roger nodded without looking up and Mr. Lambert and Allan headed back to the office with Allan furiously trying to remember Mr. Black's social security number and his new address. It was with only half an ear he listened to Mr. Lambert's apology of Roger Stoke. "I'll apologize in advance for your working with him. He doesn't have the best attitude but he does produce top-quality work. A Cambridge graduate, he won't be happy until he's running the place, but it does keep me on my toes. Any mistakes, I tell you, and he's quick to point them out."

Allan's ears perked up at this; Roger Stoke could be another important key to taking down the Black Knights. He opened his mouth to start learning some answers but all his questions were waylaid by the sheer amount of paperwork and reading material his new boss laid in front of him. The next few hours were spent with Allan cursing writer's cramp as he filled out form after form between reading policies and signing off on office protocols. It was already lunchtime when Allan finished the paperwork and he was pleasantly surprised when his new coworkers led him to a pub two blocks down the street and treated him to lunch. Roger sat by himself before being pulled into conversation by Benjamin. Allan flirted with Annie and looked at pictures of Sarah's children while Mr. Lambert flitted between the groups before making his excuses and heading back to the office early. Allan knew it impossible to get back and spy on him without making the others suspicious, so he leaned back in his chair intent on enjoying the rest of his lunch break; this place had one hell of a burger. It was a good thing he didn't get close to anyone, Allan thought as he watched Annie coax something similar to a smile from Roger. If he succeeded in his job, soon Clun Insurance would be nothing more than a distant memory to the townspeople and a warning to other gangs.

The walk home was pleasant and Allan whistled a random tune, nothing better for a brisk fall day than a song. He opened the front door with a flourish and announced his presence to anyone who would care, "Honey, I'm home."

"Honey, I'm not deaf," came the droll reply from the kitchen. Allan followed the voice to find Will standing over a pot on the stove. "Whatcha cookin', good lookin?"

"I wasn't aware today was cliché day," Will said. "I thought since I was home I would go ahead and cook dinner tonight."

"I'm not being funny, but it really isn't considered cooking when you're only boiling noodles."

"Well, I don't see you cooking," Will snapped back. "Could you make the salad? Djaq should be back any minute now."

Allan agreed good-naturedly and set about mixing up some lettuce with cucumbers, walnuts and oranges while Will drained the pasta and set about heating up some marinara sauce from a jar. As he watched the ineptitude of Will's cooking, Allan took the bag of bread out of Will's hand before grabbing some butter, garlic and parsley. "Let me show you how to make garlic bread."

Djaq arrived home to the smell of garlic bread in the oven and the laughter of her two new housemates. _I could get used to this_, she admitted to herself. She walked into the kitchen to see Will leaning casually against the counter next to the stove, a can of beer in one hand and an incredulous look on his face. Allan was standing in the middle of the room, arms gesticulating so wildly that Djaq figured the beer was almost if not already gone as her kitchen floor was not coated in a foamy mess. Will looked over at her as Allan finished his anecdote and flashed his shy smile. "Dinner should be ready soon. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"The beer sounds fantastic, but seeing as I have to be at the clinic in a few hours, I'll stick to some water."

Will nodded and grabbed a glass on his way to the refrigerator. Djaq marveled at how much he knew his way around the kitchen; it looked like he was settling in nicely. She took the glass handed her and was promptly shooed out of the kitchen by him as Allan gathered plates to set the table. Djaq relaxed as she watched the boys set the table, unable to stop the giggles that erupted when they squabbled over rather forks belong at the right of the plate or the left. Will refilled her water with the grace of a waiter and even pulled her chair out for her as the three sat down to dinner.

With Allan as a dinner companion, it was assured that there was never silence at the table and the next hour was spent with Djaq and Will in hysterics as Allan regaled them with tales of his first day at work. Over pizza last night, Djaq had explained her rule of no discussing their official work at the dinner table. "It makes for bad digestion," she had explained to them. But their fake jobs were more than up for discussion and with the occasional interjection or question by his listeners, Allan enjoyed the spotlight.

"And you wouldn't believe his arrogance, so every time he got up from the desk (which wasn't very often let me tell you), I would go over and just slightly rearrange his stuff. Like I would move his pencil collection from one drawer to another, and then I would switch his binders around, just small stuff like that. He had no idea what was going on; it drove him mental! You have not seen entertainment until you have seen a sourpuss like him muttering 'Where are my pens, dammit?'"

"How dare you, Mr. Black," Djaq responded, trying to imitate his posh impression of Roger's voice and failing miserably. "How dare a menial guy such as yourself thwart the workings of a gentleman such as Mr. Stoke!"

Will choked on his drink while Allan gave an appraising grin her way. "Why madam, would you possibly be mocking the relationship between Mr. Stoke and my fine self? I knew you had promise; just wait, we'll make you see the world our way in no time! Although I actually did sell two policies on my first day; how's that?"

"That's excellent, Allan!" Djaq praised, raising her glass to toast the now slightly preening Allan A'Dale.

"Good job, mate," Will said, quietly at unease with the look being shared between the other two.

Any comment Allan was going to say was interrupted by the shrill beeping of Djaq's pager. She groaned as she looked at the screen and apologized to the CIA agents. "I hate to cut dinner short, but the clinic beckons; looks like they need me a little early tonight. I'll see you two tomorrow. Have a goodnight."

Djaq left soon after leaving Allan and Will alone at the table. "Well I guess we have to do the dishes again. We're gonna need to speak with her about this, she can't keep shirking her duties."

Will rolled his eyes as he started gathering up the dinner plates. "Tell you what, you dry this time, and I'll wash." The cleaning was done in silence, and Will begged off from watching a movie with Allan, wanting to clear his head with a good mile or so run around the neighborhood. Allan just shrugged and made himself comfortable on the couch as Will changed into some jogging clothes, ignoring Allan's shout of "See you later, alligator!". He set a fairly furious pace, unsure as to why he wanted to get away from Allan to clear his head. What would he need to clear it from? Unsure as to what his subconscious was trying to tell him, he decided to focus simply on his breathing and the time drifted away. Will arrived back at the house more relaxed, sweatier and without any answers.

As Will was finishing his cool-down stretches, a screeching car pulled up outside the house and a man got out, boxes of Chinese take-out in his hands. "Delivery," the man called out with an accent as thick as his moustache.

"I think you're mistaken sir, we didn't order any food."

"I think you did, and I think this is the right address," the man argued, moving past Will and towards the house.

Will grabbed the back of the man's jacket and spun him around to look down at his casual face. "I repeat, we did not order food. I suggest you leave now, you are not welcome here," he growled. The man looked at Will's serious face and shrugged before reaching into a jacket pocket, causing Will to tense as he took a quick glance around him seeing their neighbor Mr. Sparrow at his mailbox and some kids riding their bikes on the street. Who was this man, and was he actually foolhardy enough to pull a gun out in plain view of several witnesses?

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Wow! That wasn't where I had originally planned to end the chapter, but I had to cut it off somewhere as this chapter was getting incredibly long. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated :D


	3. Chapter 3

Will's breath was still in limbo as his mind finally registered what was in the delivery man's hand; some packets of honey. "I tell you, _**sir**_, it is your food. And it's even better with _**honey**_."

The two locked eyes for several seconds, Will staring at the shorter man with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "Chinese food…with honey?"

The other man just shrugged, "Well? Are we going in now?"

Will nodded and gestured with his hand for the other man to lead the way, glad the adrenalin rush was starting to fade. Known for his ability to stay calm under pressure, Will didn't know why he had reacted like that. _What is wrong with me_, he thought. _I haven't gotten this worked up since my first job._

The delivery man's huffed shout of inquiry broke Will out of his thoughts as he caught up with the man at the front door. Without another word he escorted him into the kitchen before yelling up the stairs for Allan to join them. A clattering of feet was heard before Allan's head popped around the corner, bright eyes taking in the Chinese Delivery man who was sitting at the counter and helping himself to the food. "Name's Much; it's nice to finally meet you. You don't mind if I help myself right? It just looks like you've already eaten dinner judging by the plates near the sink. You did, right? If not, help yourself. I've got some General Tso's chicken, Lo Mein, and Beef and Broccoli."

Will shook his head with a smile on his face at the babbling man. "No thank you, we have already eaten. I'm Will Scarlett."

Allan didn't answer immediately and instead studied the man whose hands were busy shoving chopstick after chopstick of Lo Mein into his mouth. "Starving ya, are they? So…you're the MI-6 'master of disguise'. I guess they really are in need of our help with you on the team. And what kind of a name is Much?"

Will groaned softly at Allan's insolence, but curious to see how the operative would handle Allan's baiting. Much sat and stared in disbelief, his mouth moving soundlessly in indignation; all manners of speech seemingly lost.

"Dude, we don't need to see the food in that state. Were you ever taught manners?" Allan mocked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, cock-sure smile in place.

The smile widened at the little squeak that emitted from the other blonde, and Will decided to hurry up the conversation. With Allan in that mood, trouble was brewing that he just didn't feel like dealing with tonight.

"So, Much, what brings you here to visit Allan and myself? Any news on the case?"

With one last glare at Allan, Much turned in his seat to better face Will and pasted a smile on his face. "Nope, no news. I just wanted to meet the two of you and vice-versa; perhaps make you feel welcome with a buffet. Ya know, so that we don't have the same problem as earlier. Man, am I glad you remembered the code word. For a second there, I thought I would really have to fight you, and that wouldn't have gone well with all those neighbors around."

Will stayed silent to Allan's inquisitive look, and the tension mounted in the kitchen as Will became lost in his own world, and Much ate, and Allan scowled. "Speaking of neighbors," Allan drawled. "Shouldn't you be leaving? I'm sure they are wondering what in the devil is making a simple delivery boy stay so long. They'll think we've kidnapped you, or even worse, that we know you."

Much waved off the unsubtle hint to leave. "Nah, they probably don't even notice. And if so, we'll just explain this off as bonding time, friends we are now! Who else but a friend would buy all this food for you guys?"

"Yes, because we've really gotten to enjoy it," Allan scoffed.

"What is your problem?" Much exploded.

"You," Allan growled out. "I guess it's just that I don't like ineptitude; or that stupid moustache and hat. So if you have nothing of importance to say, leave!"

"Are you this rude to everyone? Poor Djaq, having to put up with you; not to mention poor Will over there, having to have you as a partner. Well, I can tell when I'm not wanted…."

"Really? Because you're doing a poor job of showing it, _**Bonchurch**_. So let me show you the door; have a lovely evening, and I sincerely hope it's a while before we meet again."

"Is he serious?" Much asked the still silent Will. When Will gave a mini shrug, Much proceeded to let out a loud aggrieved sigh as Allan herded him out the door. "My boss will hear of this! You have no right to talk to me like that. If you think I'm going to put up with…" The rest of Much's rant was lost as the door was slammed shut. Seconds later, Allan stamped into the kitchen before grabbing the kettle forcefully and filling it with water as his foot tapped a frenzied rhythm.

"Can you believe that guy? Gods, he's annoying. It figures we would get stuck with a whiny someone like that. I'd like to see…"

Will cut off his friend before he could continue, knowing otherwise they would be on the subject for hours. However, he still wasn't in a charitable mood with Allan and words he wasn't expecting spilled out instead. "Well, you could have been nicer to him, Allan. And any backlash this gets from our new boss is on your head. Suck it up and deal with him."

"And now you too? What is your problem this time?"

"You. He did nothing to deserve your treatment of him."

"For all your preaching, I sure didn't see you jumping to his defense or interfering. And what was he talking about? You almost fought him?"

"It's nothing. I just thought he might be a member of the Black Knights who had caught on we were CIA," Will admitted, looking at the floor.

"Hmm," Allan muttered. And that was all that was said for the next few minutes as the kettle boiled and the two men got lost in their own thoughts. The whistling was loud and Allan pulled down two cups, placing a simple bag of Earl's Grey in both teacups before pouring in the water. Handing one of them to Will, Allan mused out loud, "Still, it would have been interesting if you had fought him. The boy wouldn't have known what hit him, and maybe it would have stopped him from talking."

Will was unable to stop the small smile that sprung up, deciding to accept Allan's unspoken apology. "So, what movie were you watching? Is it still on?"

Allan's face lit up. "Of course it's still on! It was one of my tapes, so we can rewind it from the beginning!"

Will stifled his groan, wondering if their friendship was worth it. "Which one of your tapes?"

"The Blues Brothers, of course."

"Of course," Will responded. "Well, what are we waiting for? I've only seen it thirty or so times, I'm sure there is something I've missed."

"That's the spirit, buddy. '_It's a hundred miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, its dark, and we're wearing sunglasses'._"

" '_Hit it'_."

..0.0

"Dr. Johnson, you have a patient in Room 2."

"Thanks, Lydia," Djaq said. After a quick look at the patient chart, she stepped into the room to see a young boy, around 8 or 9 years of age with his hand stuck to his head. The boy's mother was trying to calm the crying lad and looked up with a relieved expression when Djaq closed the door.

"Hi, Michael, I'm Dr. Johnson," Djaq said in her softest voice. "Can you tell me what happened?"

The boy sniffled before nodding and lifting his hand away from his face, showed her the giant gash across his forehead. "Adam and I, we were climbing a tree. The branch broke, and I fell. Adam stayed home and mommy brought me here. It really hurts!"

"I'm sure it does, Michael. Why don't you sit here on the table, and we'll see if anything else is hurt."

As the mother hovered nearby, Djaq set about checking the boy's body for any broken bones or major bruising. She was impressed by the young child's coherence, and the examination was over quicker than she had initially expected. With a smile for the boy, Djaq reassured him and his mother. "You were very brave, Michael, and very lucky as well. Nothing else seems to be hurt but I'm afraid you will need stitches for that head wound; just two or three. It will be over with very quickly, are you ready?"

Michael nodded and grasped his mom's hand as Djaq applied the local anesthetic. Though tears leaked through, he stayed silent as Djaq quickly and efficiently sewed up the wound. With another smile, a pat on the arm, and a proffered lollipop, Djaq saw the two out. As she headed to the main nurses desk, she was waylaid by the head physician; a bear of a man known as Dr. John Little.

"Saffiya," he boomed. "How's tonight going? I'm sorry we called you in early, but the line outside was monstrous and Kelly and Dex called in sick, and I'm afraid Alice is home with the same bug they have."

"How is she doing?" Djaq asked, concern on her face for John's wife, Alice. She was a frail woman who often volunteered for the free clinic in the reception area.

"She's fine, and getting better."

"Good. And how have you been John? We haven't had time to talk in awhile."

"True. Keeping his place up and running has kept me more than busy. There's talk of more cuts in our funding."

"What! Doesn't the government know how much the community needs this place?"

"No. It's that no good Councilor Vaisey, he won't be happy until Nottingham is ruined. If this keeps up, we're going to need to start robbing the government at their homes to get the money to keep the people healthy."

"Don't worry, John. We'll find a way."

John merely grunted before handing her a folder from the stack he carried. "Room 6, missy," he called over his shoulder.

Djaq went back the way she had come deep in thought about the new revelations. John hid it well, but she knew him to truly be worried; it was only when he was concerned that he spoke more than one sentence at a time. In addition to that, he was actually confiding in her. And while she was touched that John trusted her, it could only signal that trouble was definitely coming.

Still lost in these thoughts, it took Djaq awhile to recognize the occupant of Room 6. She couldn't stop laughing when she caught sight of his outfit and moustache.

"Oh, hush," Much said, smiling back at her.

"I'm sorry, Much, but that moustache is not a good look on you."

"Really? I think it makes me look distinguished."

"You're posing as a delivery man, Much. How many distinguished delivery men have you ever met? Never mind, don't answer. Has the Arrow sent you with any news?"

"No, Robin has nothing to do with my visit. I simply came to give you my deepest condolences on your new housemates. I just met them about an hour ago and Will Scarlett seems decent but that Allan A Dale is HORRIBLE!"

"What happened?"

"I simply walked into your house, offering them some free food, and all he did was insult me; without any sort of provocation on my part!"

"Well, he is a bit of a brash personality. But I do believe him and Will can really help us out on this case. So play nicely with the other boys, Much…please."

"Yeah, yeah," her fellow agent grumbled. "But how are you, Djaq? How did the meeting with Robin go?"

"I'm doing well, Much, thank you for asking. And the meeting was pretty much a meeting. Tell me, has Robin been like this for awhile?"

"What do you mean?"

"He was always full of fire, one might say. But lately, it has become an inferno seeking to consume him and others. I've never seen him bent so out of shape before."

"He has been a bit, obsessed, I suppose. But remember, our leader has never led us astray before. I think it's just a mixture of stress from the secrecy and the risk, not to mention Marian."

"How is she doing?"

"Last I heard, she's doing well, and no one suspects. Guy has developed quite a fancy for her, which as you can probably guess is driving Robin batty."

"I can imagine," Djaq answered dryly. "It just means it's up to us to keep him in line and make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

"The work of a lifetime, that task. Take care, Djaq, I'll see you soon."

"Goodnight, Much. Keep safe."

With a jaunty salute, the blonde MI-6 agent walked out, leaving Djaq to herself once again. But that wasn't the case for long as the busy doctor handled case after case of everything from broken bones to a simple cold. Reminding herself of the importance of compartmentalization, Djaq tried to keep her worries of the free clinic's financial troubles and the memories of her recent meeting with Robin Locksley at the back of her mind. There were people depending on her, and she needed to give her best for them; no matter how stressed she was. But as she caught sight of her next patient, she was caught between giving in the urge to scream in frustration or to gasp in worry. She settled for the in-between reaction of sighing loudly.

"What happened?"

"I fought a cat, and the cat won," Will answered succinctly. He was covered in scratches, his right arm bleeding from two puncture wounds; for all the world looking like a naughty little kid.

"What were you doing fighting a cat?"

"Allan and I were watching a movie when we heard a noise down in the basement, so we investigated. Instead of a human intruder, it turned out to be a small kitten that somehow got in and then got stuck behind the dryer. He wasn't exactly thrilled when I tried to free him from his imprisonment, and thanked me with his claws."

Djaq giggled at this story and the subsequent reenactment of the fight with hands waving in the air fighting off an imaginary kitten. She got to work cleaning him up and told him that no stitches would be needed but she would prescribe some antibiotics in case there was an infection. Will nodded but mostly stayed silent as she wrapped gauze around his hand.

"It would seem the two of you have had an eventful evening. Much was just here a few hours ago and was telling me about meeting you and Allan."

"I'm afraid to ask."

"He liked you well enough. His feelings about Allan were the more vocal I have to admit."

"To be fair, Allan was a bit rude to him. It wasn't really Much's fault; I think it's the fact that he reminds Allan of someone from his past. But don't worry; Allan is professional enough to be able to work with him…for the most part."

"That's a relief, seeing as how he's going to be working with you two quite a bit. He can be a bit whiny, but he cares a lot and is very much the detail-man."

Will nodded, inwardly thinking of how glad he was that he had left out Allan's comment in the retelling. When they had first heard the noise, Allan had snorted, muttering 'Don't tell me it's the Master of Disguise, again!' And he would remind Allan of his kind forgetting if Allan ever decided to tell Djaq of Will's tiny scream when the kitten had leapt at his face after freedom.

"By the way," Will began hesitantly. "What do you think of cats?"

"I'm more of a dog person, but why? No, we are not keeping a cat. I'm never at home."

"But that's the good thing about cats; they can pretty much take care of themselves. And I think Allan is already pretty attached to this cat."

"How attached?"

"He's calling it Killer and stopped off at a pet shop before bringing me here. Killer now comes equipped with food, litter box, and a cat bed."

"I guess I can't say no. But he's Allan's responsibility, and I will not have an animal called Killer. He has a home if his name is changed; how about Lardner?"

"Lardner?"

"I had a pet bird named Lardner; he was a great listener when I was a kid."

"Lardner sounds a fine name then. We had a pet cockatiel when I was a kid, but we hadn't had her long before my brother accidentally let her loose."

"I bet he felt horrible."

"Yes," Will said shortly. "So is that it? Am I free to go, Doctor?"

"You're free to go, as long as you promise to stop getting into fights with little animals."

"I make no promises," Will smiled. "We'll see you at home."

A flush of warmth raged within Djaq at that last statement. She had been alone for so long, she had forgotten the comfort those words brought. She was so lost in her contentment that Will was almost out the door before she remembered.

"Oh, Will! Before you leave, I just remembered something the Arrow told me. We have a reconnaissance mission tomorrow evening at the police station. There's been a lot of activity going on at night, and the Hawk can't be there to spy tomorrow, so it's up to us to record who comes and goes. I'll be along to accompany this time in case there are any questions about who is who, but I'll let you and Allan battle it out for who wants to accompany me," Djaq smiled cheekily. "Goodnight, Will Scarlett."

"Goodnight," he said softly, his penetrating eyes mellowing.

Will found himself back in the hallway, arm numb but in surprisingly good spirits. With a sharp eye out for the huge man who had glared at him when he specifically asked for Dr. Johnson, Will made it to the waiting room where Allan was engrossed with a People Magazine. "Well, what did she say?"

"I'm okay. But I somehow get the feeling that isn't what you are asking. We can keep the cat, so long as we name it Lardner," Will told Allan. Allan didn't need to know that the name had only been a suggestion. Something about the name Lardner had brought joy to her, and Will thought a cat's name a small price to pay for her happiness.

"Lardner? A bit of an odd name, Killer is better. But oh well, as long as we get to keep him. Let's go home, I want to see how he's doing."

The two headed out as the man behind the reception desk rudely warned them to watch out for those dangerous cats. Allan flipped the man the bird, but was only laughed at. "You just can't find good help these days," he said as they walked to their shared car.

"Is it still cliché day?"

"It isn't quite midnight yet. So let's head home and let the cat out of the bag!"

Will rolled his eyes as he climbed into the passenger seat. "I just want to sleep. And speaking of sleep, there's a mission tomorrow night; a good old-fashioned stakeout. It's going to be Djaq and one of us spying on the police station."

"So, basically, it's a night alone with the beautiful Djaq Jay? I'll sacrifice myself, Will. You stay home and get your sleep; I know how much you need it."

"I think for her sake then, I should go and you should stay home and take a cold shower."

"Settle it the usual way?"

Will voiced his agreement and at the next street light, the two faced each other, concentration on both faces. "One, two, three…"

Will groaned as Allan's rock beat his scissors. "It's settled then, me and Djaq tomorrow night in her car. Who knows where the night will lead us?

"With her slapping your face at least once."

"Maybe, Will; maybe not though." But his partner just stayed silent, watching the passing scenery as the two headed back to their new home

."And just so you know Will, I am glad the cat didn't kill you."

"I know, Allan. Thank you."

* * *

Sorry for the delay, life has been trying its hardest to keep me from writing. Hope it was worth the wait! And thank you for all the kind reviews, they make me all warm and fuzzy inside!


	4. Chapter 4

Will woke up the next morning with his hand only slightly in pain and judging by the silence, Allan had already left the house. Yawning lazily, Will stumbled out of bed and groped around for a towel before heading into the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. Thirty minutes later, Will felt both awake and relaxed as he headed down to the main part of the house clad in some sweatpants and a T-shirt. Grabbing one of the fresh muffins that were lying out on the counter, Will put the kettle on the stove to heat up some water before he ran back upstairs to grab some of his papers. He might not be teaching yet, but that didn't mean he didn't have work to complete. Just the thought of teaching in less than a week made Will feel sick enough to throw away the rest of his blueberry muffin.

Armed with some hot tea, Will was making his way to the kitchen table when Djaq walked into the kitchen, startling him. The pajama clad doctor smiled a good morning as she pulled some green tea out of a cabinet.

"Sorry to scare you, Will. But I heard the kettle go off and thought some tea sounded perfect. Thanks for getting the water going. How is your arm? What are your plans for the day?"

While wondering how in the world he got stuck with morning people, it took Will a moment to gather his thoughts. "Good morning, Djaq. I was just going to plan out some of my lectures for my seminar class, nothing exciting. Are you working today?"

"No, actually, I have the day off from both jobs. So I thought I would rest up for tonight. Did you two decide who would be coming with me? And you didn't answer my question about your arm."

"The arm is feeling fine, just a little sore. You patched me up nicely. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Will Scarlett."

"As for the stakeout, you will be working with Allan, I'm afraid."

"You're afraid?"

"Because well, you see…."

"Yes?"

"Never mind, I'm just trying to scare you. Allan is good company on a stakeout; you will definitely not be bored," Will forced a smile.

"It sounds like it will be an interesting night," Djaq said, studying Will. "It will be nice to get to know Allan better. And you as well, Will."

"Me?" Will asked in disbelief.

"Yes, you," Djaq responded, a small smile playing about her lips. "If you aren't in too big of a hurry, why don't you join me on the couch? Days with this much free time are rare, and I would like to spend some of it with you."

She had already turned to make her way to the living room when her words sunk in with Will, and thus she did not see the blush that made its way to his cheeks. Following awkwardly behind, Will sat down on the overstuffed armchair as Djaq settled herself comfortably on the couch, legs tucked under her as she faced Will Scarlett. There was silence for a few moments as the two sipped and savored their morning tea, Djaq's eyes on Will and Will's eyes on the tapestry over the couch.

"What are your…"

"So tell me…"

The two adults chuckled as their words tumbled over each other. Lardner, previously known as Killer, followed the sound into the living room and jumped up on the couch to inspect Djaq who stroked the cat with an absentminded air whilst still examining Will with an almost unsettling concentration. She opened her mouth to continue, but Will sensing an interrogation of sorts into his life interrupted before she could get out her sentence.

"So tell me about the Free Clinic you work at. The work you do seems rewarding, how did you get into that field?"

"My father was a physician, and I wanted to be just like him for as long as I can remember. We would be sitting around the dinner table and he would quiz me on various medicines or names of diseases. I was eleven. He died a few years later in a drive-by shooting."

"That had to have been hard on you."

"It was," Djaq agreed, her voice soft and lost in days long ago. "But my father had taught me the necessity of inner strength and reaching goals; it seemed a slight to him to live my life in mourning. So I went to medical school and became a general practitioner; it helped that the MI-6 paid for it. I worked with them to take down the gang and the Hood must have seen something in me. He offered medical school and a position under him. I said yes."

"What about the clinic? Do they suspect you have another job?"

"I certainly hope not!" Djaq grinned brightly. "That could definitely get me in trouble on both ends. There have been a few tight situations in the past, but nothing I could not handle. Plus, it helps that my boss has a silver tongue and is able to invent fantastic excuses off the top of his head."

"He sounds like an interesting man. Will we get to meet him?"

"I don't know. He is keeping a low profile at the moment but there is a definite possibility. You and Allan…intrigue him; and this case means a lot to him. He can be a bit of a perfectionist through the obsession." Djaq's hands flew to her mouth as she realized what she had just said. "Please tell me you didn't hear that."

"I haven't heard a single word you've said at all," Will smiled, settling himself more comfortably in the chair. "So tell me about your coworkers at the clinic."

"They are a good group of people. The head physician is a bear of a man, John Little. He runs our little group with military precision, for all the fact that he doesn't say much. Frankly, he terrified me when I started, but now I can't imagine anyone else running the place. He cares a lot about the community and our patients. His wife, Alice, helps out with the clerical work along with fundraising. She is a sweet woman, and their son is adorable."

"By bear of a man, are you referring to the bearded hulk who likes to glower? If so, I met him yesterday. He wasn't too thrilled when I specifically asked for you."

"He can be a bit overprotective, like a gruff uncle almost. John thinks that Saffiya is a retired army medic, and as he is ex-military himself, he has taken me under his wing. You won't find anyone more loyal or willing to fight for what he believes is right. I can't help but worry about the clinic and John, especially with the recent funding cuts."

Here, Djaq petered off, concern in her eyes as other thoughts entered her mind. Will, unsure of how much to intrude, went to finish his tea and was surprised to find it stone cold. _I guess I'm enjoying myself more than I would have thought_ Will mused.

"So tell me about Allan."

Will looked up at Djaq in surprise. "You want to talk about Allan?"

"I do have to work with him tonight. It would be nice to know some more about him and the two of you seem close."

"We are. But you don't need to ask me, he'll have no problem talking about himself tonight."

"That may be true, but I'm still curious."

"Not much to say really. He's charming, intelligent, and does stuff his own way. I first met him four years ago. I had just graduated with an engineering degree, and my father wanted me to join the 'family business', otherwise known as the CIA. But he wasn't too pleased when I decided not to go into the weapons field like him. I wanted to be a field agent; it seemed more exciting then sitting in a lab all day. And on my first day, they teamed me up with Allan A Dale, one of their premier junior agents. Fast forward a week later, the government 3,000 dollars less and the two of us in jail; first time a boss had ever yelled at me, and for some reason I didn't care. Allan just does that to people; he catches them up in the excitement. I was warned by other agents that first week of his distrust in people; of how he had never been able to keep partners, didn't want to. But he was vehement to our superiors, who surprisingly didn't fire us both, that no one would be a better partner to him than me. He took me under his wing and has been looking after me ever since. To this day, I'm not entirely certain how that happened; why it was me that he picked."

"I would have thought the reason would be obvious, Will Scarlett."

"Huh?"

"You will realize why one day. So tell me about engineering. Is that what you are teaching at the school?"

"Yes, although I am a bit rusty with the basic material. I fell in love with carpentry in high school; so I thought even if I didn't go the way of my dad, I would still have something I love and become a contractor or something."

"Would you still like to do that someday?" Djaq asked.

Will shrugged, unsure of the answer himself. Lardner interrupted the silence with a loud questioning meow as he sat up, searching the air for some imaginary foe. Minutes were spent with the two humans watching the sleepy and confused cat. Lardner was finally satisfied that nothing had sneaked past him, and he nestled back into Djaq's lap, settling himself down for his second nap of the morning. Djaq smiled and slowly ran her hand down his back, eliciting a sound that sounded more like a jet engine than a purr.

"You mentioned teaching a seminar class earlier. What is to be the topic?" she continued.

"The topic is to be engineering in the middle ages. We did a miniature catapult back in high school, and its fantastic getting to do more. I'm still getting into the research, but I've already drawn up some notes and sketches. Would you like to see them?"

Djaq nodded, her eyes bright in anticipation. Will unfolded his long legs and made his way to the kitchen where he last left his sketches. Grabbing Djaq's empty mug on the way, he left their mugs in the sink and hurried back with his mass of papers. He stopped short when he saw that Djaq had sat up and was patting the bit of couch right next to her. Chiding himself that it was just Djaq, and that as an adult he shouldn't be afraid of girls…_women_…anymore; Will settled himself next to the doctor. His nervousness melted away with the indignant howl of an unsettled Lardner who let his displeasure known before settling down in Will's lap.

"He likes you," Djaq said, her chuckle mingling with Will's. "Even when he is angry, he still wants to be with you."

"Nah, he's just a creature of comfort. Why bother holding a grudge when there are the more important concerns of warmth and a soft lap to settle in? He's just like his daddy really. Assess and figure out what's more important to focus your emotions on; Allan is good at that."

Realizing the topic had gotten back to Allan, as it usually did, Will hastily shoved some pictures towards Djaq. She eagerly took them, and the two discussed medieval engineering for the next hour. Djaq was mostly quiet, asking the occasional pertinent question as Will talked and talked about his newfound passion of old mechanisms and ancient weaponry.

Djaq marveled at this change in who she had perceived to be a man normally reserved. His passion for engineering was evident, and his intuitive grasp of the subject impressed the young doctor. "No wonder you're father wanted you to follow in his footsteps. The CIA seems to have lost a great 'Q' when you decided to become a field agent."

"He was pretty upset," Will admitted. "Growing up, we had never really fought, but that little _rebellion_ started off a hell of a chain of arguing. When I still didn't go in the direction my father wanted for me, he started pushing my brother even more."

"Oh, I did not know you had a brother, are you close?" Djaq asked, her eyes still studying the sketches. "I was supposed to have a brother, a twin. He died three days after birth. My parents never had any more children; it would have been nice to have a sibling.

"He is not in my life anymore," Will answered softly, eyes bright with emotion. "In a month it'll have been two years since he died. Since…" Will's words petered off, unable still to handle the memories.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up, for causing you pain," Djaq told him, resting her hand on his arm.

Will shook his head vehemently, unable to trust his voice. His large hand found hers, still on his left arm in a silent offer of comfort, and squeezed it gently, hoping to offer his own comfort to her, for the loss he could tell she still felt. She squeezed back tighter, and Will suddenly couldn't breathe, claustrophobia closing in on him.

"I have to go," he explained hastily, leaping up from the couch. "I was going to head to the school today to meet with the Dean and I'll finish up my work from there. Bye."

And with those words, Will Scarlett made his escape to his room to get dressed so he could leave for the school. So he could try to leave behind the storm of emotions that were making their way through his body like a whirling dervish; to escape once again into work and solitude.

If he had looked behind he would have seen Djaq still on the couch, her knees hugging her chin as pained brown eyes followed his exit. She stayed in that position, listening to the hurried footsteps of her new flat mate as he threw on clothes and then ran out the door, not even bothering to call out to her. As she listened to the car roar to life and then sped away from her, she looked down at the living room floor, realizing one small detail. "But you left your work here, Will," she spoke into the silence.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and has waited so patiently for updates. I decided to go ahead and cut this chapter up and put only the Will/Djaq scene in this chapter as I wanted to get something up before I left. Next chapter will include the Allan/Djaq stakeout goodness. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I appreciate any reviews/ideas/constructive criticism/etc.


	5. Chapter 5

Allan yawned from the passenger seat of the Vauxhall, looking over at Djaq as she parked the car on the side of the street opposite the police station. It was 7:00 at night and their nighttime espionage was just beginning.

"Are you sure you can stay awake?" she asked the CIA agent, as she herself settled more comfortably into the seat.

"Of course," Allan responded brightly. "Don't you worry Djaqie; I have no problem staying up all night. Stamina is my middle name."

"Djaqie?" she asked, her nose partially wrinkled in disgust.

"Something wrong with that name? Come on, you need a nickname, it means we're bonding."

"Yes, but not Djaqie. And along that end, any nickname you decide will have to be approved by me." Djaq said smiling.

"Fine, fine…go ahead and take away all the fun of coming up with a nickname. You're starting to sound like Will. Always trying to take away my fun, you people." Allan said, smiling to show he didn't mean offense.

"Yes, Will was telling me earlier about some of your adventures."

"Really?"

"Well, of a sorts. Something might have slipped out of his mouth about you, him, and some jail time."

"Well, that's what you get for taking a young duckling under your protection. He throws you in the oven to roast! I'm sure he exaggerated it 100%."

"I get the feeling that would be more your style, Allan A Dale," Djaq replied dryly.

"You may be right, my little jackrabbit…okay, so you don't like that name. Well, all I can say about that story is that those were the days. Who would have thought that gawky, shy boy could do what he did on that case? He showed talent even then. There's no one I would trust more to have my back as much as him, and he certainly has saved it a few times, both on and off the job," Allan chuckled.

"He seems a good man; I think I may have upset him this morning though." Djaq said softly, gazing outside the passenger window.

"Then it's a good thing he tends to forgive easily. Well, most of the time. There are a few taboo subjects, but I'm sure you didn't touch on any of those. Did you, Dilly?"

Djaq continued looking outside the window before his latest nickname attempt sunk in into her consciousness. "Dilly?"

"You look good in that blue shirt tonight."

"Thank you, I think. How did you get Dilly from my shirt?"

"It's from an old nursery rhyme, 'Lavender's blue dilly dilly, Lavender's green. When I am King dilly dilly, you shall be Queen." Allan recited in a perfect Cockney accent.

"And that just popped into your head?" Djaq asked, a smile reappearing on her face.

"Yep, like most stuff tends to. Would you like to hear the rest of it?"

"Yes, please."

Allan cleared his throat self-consciously. "Call up your men, dilly dilly, set them to work; some to the plough, dilly dilly, some to the cart. Some to make hay, dilly, some to thresh corn. Whilst you and I, dilly dilly dilly, keep ourselves warm."

"That is a lovely rhyme; I do not believe I have ever heard it before. Do you like nursery rhymes?"

"Among other things," Allan said, his mood becoming pensive now.

"I must commend you on your accent, though. You really do sound as if you were born in England."

"That's because I was," Allan said simply, startling blue eyes meeting hers.

"I thought you were American, born and bred."

Allan shook his head. "I was born in London, and put up for adoption. The way I understand it, I was just under a year old when an American family adopted me."

"So was it from your new mother that you learned that nursery rhyme?"

"No, it was from a woman a few families later. Say, is that Gisborne?"

Djaq followed his line of sight to see a tall, dark-haired man clad in a leather jacket walking out of the police station. "That's him, Guy Gisborne," she confirmed.

Allan gave a low wolf whistle, "And who is that woman he's with?"

"That would be Hawk, our inside mole."

"She's beautiful."

"And she is the bosses' girl, so you might want to keep those hormones of yours in check."

"So she belongs to that Arrow, huh?"

"She doesn't _belong_ to anyone," Djaq replied archly. "No woman does, so remember that Mr. A Dale."

"Sorry, Ms. Jay, lesson learned."

"See that you remember it. Truth be told, the Arrow and the Hawk have a volatile relationship at the best of times, lately their relationship is more appropriately likened to Mt. Vesuvius. No matter the circumstance, it's hard to be in our business and in a relationship," Djaq said sadly.

"Don't I know it, not that I necessarily do relationships anyway. It looks like those two are heading out together, is she using the womanly wiles ploy to get information?"

"The womanly wiles ploy?"

"You know, when she flirts and gallivants in such a way that all men in her life are left confused and unhappy, but perfectly ripe for the information picking."

"Actually," Djaq answered, eyebrows arched. "That wasn't the original plan, Hawk is better than that. It just became the only alternative when it became clear how much Gisborne was pining after her. She isn't happy about it, Robin isn't happy about it; in other words, all of us in the section feel for her. She is caught between two very powerful men, trying to do the right thing without losing herself. And besides, have you never flirted or used your body to get information before?"

Allan stayed quiet after Djaq's angry outburst, not even looking at the MI-6 agent. Djaq closed her eyes, inhaling slowly. She berated herself, unsure as to where those emotions had come from; she was normally much more in control. A few breaths in and out, and Djaq opened her eyes to see Allan with flashlight in hand filling out some forms. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Allan stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't say it, it was my fault really. This mouth of mine does tend to get me in trouble." Allan said, gently messaging her shoulder. "So how about we start over again?"

"Okay," she agreed, missing the warmth when he took his arm back. The next few minutes were spent in mutual, apologetic silence, which Allan found oddly comfortable. Normally, silence bothered him but here in the car with Djaq, Allan found himself at ease.

For her part, Djaq used the nearby glow of a streetlight to study her new partner out of the corner of her eye. _He really is handsome_, she thought, _with those eyes and sandy blond hair_. _Too bad that mouth of his is a double-edged sword; a smile to make girls swoon and words to make her angry, but knowing him that's the way he prefers. A one night-stand and no relationships; a lot of talking with no revealing, and he gets all that he wants. _Next to her, Allan started whistling quietly, unaware that he was even doing so, and Djaq smiled sweetly. _They certainly stuck me with some interesting partners. Just imagine the chaos that would result if you were to mix Allan's physical charm and confidence with Will's sweet solidity._ Djaq shook her head, not sure if she wanted to continue with her current thinking, it would only lead down a dangerous path.

"Oh, here comes someone," Djaq said, grateful for a distraction.

"It's Lambert, my boss," Allan said shortly. The two watched as the man entered the police building, staying inside for only five minutes before exiting. "Well, that was short," Allan commented as he documented the action on his log. "But it does correlate with the assumption that he's working with Gisborne. Is there a way I can set a tap up in his office at work?"

"I'll check on it, right now we have to be careful about going too high-tech or the Arrow's plans could be found out."

"Gotcha, so the good ol' fashioned way it is. Hmmm, maybe Will can figure something out though, he's pretty clever with this kind of stuff; he can be a regular MacGyver. This way no one at MI-6 will have to know, therefore, no leak to the baddies."

"Brilliant," Djaq breathed.

The two grinned at each other, Allan putting out his hand which Djaq playfully slapped in a high-five. "Talk to Will first thing tomorrow, and see if there's anything else you two can cook up surveillance wise. I'll send Much over to get your suggestions and he can give them to the boss as soon as possible since I'm going to be at the clinic all day tomorrow."

"Ah, Much. Are you sure we can't just deal with you?" Allan asked, batting his eyes.

"Much is your contact point, since I'm not there all the time. You will just have to be nice. I heard you two had a colorful first meeting, but I'm hoping you can both be professional."

"I am always professional, Dilly." Allan sighed and rolled his own eyes in response to her eye-roll. "Okay, maybe I was a bit harsh last night but if the man can't handle a little banter, he shouldn't open his mouth. "

"Not all people are necessarily as witty as you."

"Why thank you for noticing!" Allan laughed at her expression. "But really, how people communicate is very telling of them as individuals. Engaging in some slight bullying is one of my ways of reading someone's personality strengths and weaknesses. And Much is a grown man; he should be able to handle it."

"Do you do these psychological tests on all of your partners?" Djaq asked, curious as to how she would come across to this man.

"Yes, it's become a habit over the years."

"And?"

"And?" Allan teased before relenting. "And this Arrow has assembled a good team… and of course paired you with the best."

"And this compliment includes Much, right?" Djaq teased back.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't ever tell him I said that. Please, Djaq, I'm trusting you with this."

"Then I guess I won't tell," Djaq laughed.

"Thank you," Allan semi-bowed, taking her hand in his and bestowing a kiss upon it.

Flushed, Djaq snatched her hand back. "Allan," she warned.

With a cheeky grin, Allan turned back in his seat. "Look, Gisborne has returned, sans Hawk."

"Why isn't he going into the building?" Djaq asked.

The two watched as the dark-haired man answered his cell-phone, casually leaning against the outside of the station. He spoke to the unknown person for a few minutes before hanging up, opting to remain out in the cooling night.

"It's almost midnight, what is he doing? Do you think something is going down tonight?" Allan asked.

"I don't know, let us just keep our eyes open," Djaq responded. The two lowered in their seats as Guy checked out his surroundings, hoping that he didn't remember the car from earlier.

"It is kind of hard to watch the villain when all you can see is a dashboard, why isn't he going inside?" Allan muttered dryly.

"Shh," Djaq reprimanded him in a whisper. "We can still hear."

Allan estimated it to be about twenty minutes before the two heard a car door slam. Straightening up slightly, Allan peeped out the front window. "Get up, Djaq, we have to go. Gisborne just got into a car with some unknown driver." Peering closer, Allan gave a start. "Actually he just got into my company's car, it must be Lambert. Something might be going down after all."

Djaq started the car and began to keep a cautious follow behind the blue insurance car. They ended up on the opposite side of town, turning onto a street just in time to see their quarry glide to a stop in front of a valet.

"If something is going on, what is it?" Djaq questioned in exasperation. "This is one of the hottest nightclubs in town, very exclusive. It seems an odd place to conduct business considering this place is always packed."

Allan kept his eyes on the people leaving the car. "And even weirder when you're not conducting business with your flunky. Take a look, Djaq, it's not Lambert; it's Annie."

"Who's Annie?"

"The secretary," Allan said, a sinking feeling in his chest. "Well, I guess any chances for that fling is caput now. How the hell does that guy get all the women?"

* * *

A/N: I'm so sorry about the long wait, but my muse decided to take a vacation. Luckily, said muse decided to visit again tonight for old times sake, and voila, this chapter appeared. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it does make me want to get the next chapter out quicker. And hopefully, the next one won't be as long in the works. So I hope you enjoyed, thank you for staying with the story so far.


	6. Chapter 6

Will awoke as tremors shook his lanky frame. He sat up as quickly as his sleep-addled brain would let him only to fall back when he took in the sight of Allan A Dale bouncing on the bed, a strangely pensive look upon his face. Slipping the pillow out from under his head, Will threw it at his partner's face, a satisfied smirk emerging at Allan's yelp of surprise. "Why?" the blond man asked, faking an injury.

"I could ask you the same," Will replied. "What happened to a man's privacy in his own room?"

"You lost it when you befriended me," Allan answered cheekily. He settled down, lying next to Will. The two laid in silence for several heartbeats, lost in their own thoughts. Will was sorry to disrupt the stillness but knew he had to; while it wasn't always obvious, there normally was a reason to Allan's madness.

"So how was the stakeout last night?" Will asked.

"Odd," Allan admitted. Will digested this, waiting for his partner to continue. "For the most part, it was quiet. Saw Gisborne leave with Agent Hawk, who is hot by the way, and he returned a few hours later. He stayed outside talking on his cell and then got in a car…" Allan trailed off.

"Alone or was he with someone?"

"He was picked up by a mysterious driver who upon discovery ended up being Annie, the secretary from the insurance company. She even picked him up in a company car."

"That is odd," Will mused. "By all accounts, this Gisborne character is cautious beyond doubt, if not slightly paranoid. Yet he gets into a marked car that would be easily recognizable and traceable?"

"That's one of the things that's been bothering me. It doesn't seem to fit his profile; unless this group is becoming so cock-sure that they don't care anymore. And if that's the case, then we might have to start really worrying. It means they have more of a stake in the town than previously thought."

"Or celebrate. Remember that one banker we had to deal with that became so overconfident that we just had to sit back as he hand delivered himself to us?"

"Something tells me that won't be the case here. These men are after England itself, we're dealing with pros I feel. There's something else going on, something I'm missing…"

"You'll figure it out. It does make it pretty easy that she works in the same office you do at the moment."

"True. We also got confirmation last night that the boss man, Mr. Lambert, seems to be involved as well. He stopped off with some sort of envelope and left. He wasn't there long enough to fill out any sort of report and didn't leave with anyone, so it must have been to see Gisborne."

"Could he have been friends with anyone there?" Will asked, slipping into his usual role of Allan's logical soundboard.

"No, Hawk would have mentioned it before. Her reports are pretty comprehensive and detail-oriented. And if it was to talk to someone he knew he still would have been there longer."

"So that means to continue watching Lambert and now Annie." Will commented.

"And maybe the whole company, who knows who else is involved."

"What are your plans?"

"Still working on them," Allan grinned. "You know I don't like to be too set-in stone. If you want to examine all the details of the night, I wrote up a report when I returned. I wanted to talk to you in person, but a certain fuddy-duddy was already asleep."

"It was a long day, yesterday."

"Whatever, man, but don't sweat it. As much as I hate writing reports, Djaq said the Arrow wanted one and she was already tired what with all the work she does, so I went ahead and volunteered."

"You volunteered?" Will asked, an incredulous expression on his face.

"What's with the surprise? Besides, I needed to wind down and nothing will put me to sleep faster than those reports."

"Still…"

"You know I can't say no to a pretty woman," Allan shrugged.

"Volunteering isn't the same as saying no," Will informed the man dryly.

"Djaq's special," Allan allowed. "Not only did she not slap me, not that she would have any reason to," he hastened to placate as he felt Will tense next to him. "I am always the perfect gentleman on stakeouts. When it comes down to it…she's our partner."

"You just called her a partner," Will commented, voice soft and steady.

"I guess I did," Allan replied.

Nothing more was said between the two friends as the sun's light moved across the duvet. His blue eyes leaving the ceiling, Allan turned to face the brunette next to him. The rustling covers alerted Will, and he turned his head as well so that the two were facing each other. "By the way, mate; I need you to access your inner-MacGyver."

"What's the issue?"

"It would appear that we won't be getting top-notch surveillance equipment from the MI-6 for this job, so I was hoping you could cook something up."

"What kind of budget am I looking at?" Will asked, sitting up in bed.

"Items from the supermarket and the pharmacy?"

"You really are asking for a lot. I'll see what I can manage."

"Thanks, man. This is why you're my hero. Well, I guess it's off to work I go. But first, the shower; one's got to look pretty when one's a spy. What are you doing today?" Allan asked.

"I'll probably be at the university for a few hours, prepping for classes. And to de-stress myself beforehand, I think I'll go for a run now since I have the time this morning, thanks to you."

"I know how close you and the sun are. This is just one more example of why knowing me makes you a better person. See you at dinner?"

"Will you cook this time?" Will asked. "Because if so, then definitely."

Allan laughed, mussed Will's hair and climbed off the bed. He was almost at the door when Will spoke.

"Djaq knows about Luke. Not everything, but some. I told her yesterday."

Allan paused, his back still to Will. "You told her? I guess she really is part of the team," he said quietly before leaving the room.

"Yeah, part of the team." Will whispered to himself.

****************************************

Nottingham Community College wasn't particularly large, but it had a fervent botany club who took great pleasure in keeping the grounds immaculate. Will leisurely walked to his office, enjoying the scenery. Walking up the stairs to the top floor, Will gave a bemused grin as he once again saw his office; it was smaller than a closet. Yesterday, he had learned it was impossible to open up his filing cabinet and his desk drawers at the same time.

Will sat down; pulling out the handful of papers that he had found the night before stacked tidily on his bed. A keen observer walking past would have noticed the clenched jaw muscle on an otherwise blank face. Will didn't know whether or not to regret what he had revealed to the pretty agent, but what he did know was that he was floundering in the aftermath. He may have roiling emotions, but he kept them buried underneath a veneer of logic and calm. His mother had called him her little matryoshka; her doll who showed a new face with every layering, when no one else even suspected something different. Taking a few deep breaths, Will closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. Now was not the time to delve into memories, especially ones involving his mother or brother.

Reopening his eyes, a bright yellow Post-It note caught his attention. Written upon it was an invitation to lunch with Professor Harold Mathers, the somewhat eccentric philosophy teacher Will had met yesterday. Will set the note aside, happily anticipating the approach of noon now. Professor Mathers had been pleasant, helpful, and entertaining; Will was looking forward to learning more about him. Gathering his papers closer, the secret CIA agent lost himself in his work, planning lectures and sketching possible projects. The hours flew by, and it was almost noon when a brown-haired man stuck his head around the doorway.

"Sorry," the man said, blue eyes twinkling. "Wrong room, I didn't mean to bother you."

Will waved an arm at the man to show he didn't mind, and as the man pulled his head back out, he himself looked at the clock. Putting away his papers, Will hurried off to meet with Professor Mathers. About a quarter-mile from the campus was a charming bistro where Will found the tall, lanky red-headed philosophy instructor. With welcoming arms, Professor Harold Mathers bade Will to join him. Will gladly obliged and gave his order to the waitress who hurried over.

"Good choice, the turkey and brie sandwich is divine. Did you know that Charlemagne was a fan of brie?"

"I did not," Will replied with a grin. "Did he also enjoy it on a turkey sandwich?"

"That I'm not sure, but I would speculate he would enjoy a fine sandwich as much as any man. How goes your day today, Professor?"

_I'm going to have to get used to hearing that title directed at me, _Will thought to himself. "Everything is going fine; I was just working on some lesson plans for the students. It's hard to believe classes start up so soon," Will admitted out loud.

"Nervous?"

"A bit."

"Yes, it took me years to get over my own nervousness. Now I greet each new semester with a blend of excitement and repulsion. How long have you been teaching, Luke?"

"Just for about two years now. I guess I'm more concerned with the cultural differences," Will said easily.

Harold held up a hand in dismissal. "You will be fine, lad. Students are the same world-round. They are all arrogant know-it-alls, who wish to be anywhere else."

Will laughed in appreciation and the two quieted as the waitress approached with their food. Harold took an appreciative sip of his tea before resuming the conversation. "Speaking of cultural differences, how are you finding England?"

Will brushed his mouth with his napkin before replying. "I'm liking it so far, although I admit that I don't get out much."

"And your roommates, how are you finding them? One's a doctor you said, right? And the other one a…"

"An insurance salesman," Will finished. "They are very nice, and have been very welcoming."

"Good, good. I once taught overseas you know, in Jerusalem. It was a most invigorating experience. I shall have to go back for a visit sometime soon. If you ever have a chance, Professor Carpenter you should go as well, it is a beautiful and enlightening place."

"I would love that," Will agreed. "My seminar as you know is about medieval engineering, and I've been studying up on the war tactics and weaponry used in the Crusades. It would be neat to see all the places I've been reading about."

"Ah, yes, the Crusades. 'War does not determine who is right-only who is left'," the philosophy professor said with a sigh. "Bertrand Russell. I sometimes think that quote could also describe our own chosen profession. I, myself, was a soldier once; I currently hold the position that teaching is in itself a harder job. Not to scare you, Luke, maybe I'm just becoming cynical after all these years."

"Not to worry, Harold. I'm ready to do battle."

The two leisurely finished off their lunch, discussing as wide-reaching topics as the unseasonably hot weather to which local gyms were the best in the area. Will arrived back on campus, refreshed and ready to work for a few more hours. Pulling out one of his sketch books from his messenger bag, Will opened it to discover that he had pulled out the wrong book. This sketch book wasn't his; it had belonged to his brother.

Will leafed through the book reverentially; his brother had always been talented at drawing. Will had always been competent with his scaled drawings, but with Luke, his imaginative drawings had come to life. It was to this sketchbook that Will went to for inspiration and comfort. When he was in a creative mood, the elder Scarlett had even tried some drawings of his own in the sketchbook, reminding him of when the two were younger and they had shared a coloring book while their mother scolded their brotherly fighting and their father simply laughed. A once, happy family who had been torn apart by one drunk driver.

Will flipped to one of those drawings, the one he had been attempting their first night in Djaq's house. It was of a dragon, wound around a catapult, a dove nestled in the dragon's claws. Will set to work, finishing off the shading of the dragon before starting on the background. He was interrupted by a knock on the door as a blond, genial looking young guy peered in at him.

"Sorry to interrupt sir, but I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Carter Higgins; I'll be one of your students in the Medieval Engineering seminar."

"Hello, Carter. I'm Professor Luke Carpenter," Will said, shaking the man's hand.

"I'm looking forward to the class, sir. It seems like it will be really interesting."

"The material itself is very interesting, I just hope I won't bore you all," Will answered with a half smile.

"I'm sure that won't happen, sir. Besides, we didn't get into engineering for excitement," Carter replied.

"Well said. And you don't need to keep calling me sir, you're my age."

Carter opened his mouth to continue talking when his cell phone started to ring. "Excuse me, sir, I don't want to be rude, but I need to take this. It was nice meeting you."

"And you, Carter. I'll see you Monday."

Carter Higgins nodded as he walked out the door, answering his phone as soon as he was out in the hallway and out of earshot. "Hello, sir. Of course I can talk freely, Councilor. What do you need? Right, I'll be there in a half hour."

* * *

A/N Well here is the next installment. Thank you to those of you who reviewed the last chapter, it helped me get this chapter out faster, so this one if for you guys: KeepingAmused, HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld, and iheartlife89. And thank you to everyone who has been keeping with this story from the beginning. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and reviews/constructive criticism is appreciated, especially regarding the cohesion of the story since some of these chapters have had so long between them.


	7. Chapter 7

"Morning, Mr. Black!" Annie chirped at Allan.

"Annie," he nodded back crisply. He could feel her watching as he made his way to his desk. It had become their morning routine to spend five to ten minutes at her desk chatting and flirting. Even with a career of playing make-believe, it threw Allan off to not follow that particular routine this morning.

"Roger," Allan nodded again, this time to the man who sat across from him.

Roger Stoke grunted a hello and immediately turned back to his computer.

"Uh, Roger, what's this Post-it note you stuck on my desk?"

Roger didn't even look up at his screen. "That would be one of our clients that you sold a policy to the other day. He has apparently died tragically of a heart attack, and we are to pay up."

"And you don't think it's in the least suspicious that he bit it so soon after having bought a policy?"

"Of course I do. That's why it's on your desk; for you to investigate. We're a small company Tom; we have to do the investigating ourselves, not like the fancy company you probably came from with all those extra people to do the work, so you can sit back and just chatter away on a phone."

He looked like he would have continued but Allan was luckily spared by the arrival of their boss, Lambert.

"What's this I hear about an investigation?" Lambert asked the two.

"One of Tom's clients died last night of a supposed heart attack and the claim has been filed by his widow and was faxed to us this morning. It will need looking into. Of course, if the seller of the claim had been a little more thorough with his medical questions…," Roger trailed on with a snooty look towards his desk mate.

"Roger, that's enough. We have a policy here to take on most people who are willing to pay for the insurance; we need to look out for our town. I want to run a company that cares for its community and looks out for its well-being. It is also a policy to treat your coworkers with respect, do you understand?" Lambert waited for Roger's sullen nod and hurried apology. "Good. Mr. Black, I will take this off your hands. It's only your first week still, and I don't want you feeling pressured."

"I don't mind, sir," Allan said hastily. "I'd like to learn what goes into the investigation procedure."

Lambert simply waved him aside. "No, no, I'll be fine. You're doing so well right now, this might get you all stressed out. Tell you what though, next time there needs to be an investigation, we'll get you trained. Have a good day, gentlemen. I'll be in my office if you need me." Waving his hand in farewell, Lambert headed into his office and shut the door.

Roger snorted suddenly, causing Allan to look his way. "Fat chance, newbie. There is almost never an investigation, so it looks like you won't be learning all the aspects of the job as fast as you might expect. Oh darn, that means you might not get much of a raise or promotion." Roger grinned.

"Well, I guess that means I'll just keep bugging you for the answers," Allan replied, pasting his largest, fakest grin on his face.

Roger glared before turning back in his seat and typing furiously on his keyboard. After a few minutes, he looked back towards Lambert's office, and almost to himself, said softly,"although, there has been more deaths within the past year than the past five."

"What was that, Roger?" Allan asked, even though he had heard every word.

"Nothing," Roger Stoke responded shortly. Allan nodded to himself. _So there have been more deaths and more policies getting paid out in the past year than ever before. It would seem this place really is a front. The question is, where is the money going and for what?_

Seeing Sarah by the water cooler, Allan headed over to see just how common an occurrence this was. "Hi, Sarah!"

"Hello, Tom. How are you today?"

"I'm good, Sarah. And you?"

"Good, just tired. My youngest has an ear infection, so her crying kept me up most of the night."

"That's never fun," Allan sympathized.

"No, it's not," Sarah agreed. "It's been crazy trying to get in to see the doctor; I'm not really sure what to do."

"Have you tried the free clinic?" Allan asked.

"No, but that's a good idea, thanks."

"No problem. Hey, Sarah, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she replied. "As long as you don't ask me to do anything illegal," she winked at him.

Allan just chuckled, inwardly berating himself for not having been able to figure out who was playing for which team yet. "No, nothing like that. It's actually work related. A man I sold a policy to the other day died last night of a heart attack."

"That's horrible," Sarah gasped. "It's so sad when someone dies. But since you sold the policy, I assume it is pretty recent. Is there going to be an investigation?'

"Yes," Allan confirmed. "Lambert told me he'd do it."

"Well that's nice of him," the mother of two mused. "You wouldn't want to be inundated with all that paperwork on your first week."

"Are investigations like this normal?" The undercover agent persisted.

"Not really," Sarah admitted, turning to start back to her desk. "We've only had a handful in the six years I've been here. More than likely, Roger got the claim this morning before any one else could and automatically cried investigation. Though in this case, it does sound warranted. I better get back to work before I get into trouble. Is there anything else, Tom?"

"No, Sarah, thank you."

"Um, Mr. Black, do you have a minute?" Annie's voice called out.

"Sure, Ms. Howard," Allan called back, walking over to her front desk.

"What is with the Ms. Howard?" she asked shyly. "Have I offended you?"

"No," Allan said smoothly. "Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind. And of course I'm going to call you Ms. Howard if you persist on calling me Mr. Black outside of first thing in the morning."

"Sorry," Annie breathed out, a large smile on her face. "I won't take up a lot of your time, but I was wondering if you were free tonight?"

"It depends," Allan said with his patented smirk. "What were you thinking?"

"It's my birthday," she told him, looking down towards her feet.

"Happy birthday, Annie," Allan congratulated her warmly. "Are you having a get-together?"

"Yes, just some friends and co-workers at this club called Gryphon."

Allan perked up at that, recognizing the name from the club he had seen her go into only last night. "Isn't that rather exclusive?" he asked.

"This guy I know, he rented it out for me as my present," she said, blushing a light pink.

"That's quite the present."

"Yeah, it's really sweet," she said. "It's one of his favorite places, he's always there. I just saw it for the first time last night. But never mind that, will you come?"

"I will definitely be there," Allan said. "Thank you for the invitation."

"I'll print up directions and all the information and hand it out later," she promised him.

"I eagerly await the memo," Allan told her with a suave nod of the head.

Annie blushed again as Allan sauntered back to his desk, a whistle escaping his lips. Roger looked up with his perpetual scowl in place.

"I'm sorry," Allan said sweetly. "Is whistling outlawed?"

"It should be in a business environment," Roger muttered. "Stop."

Instead of stopping, Allan decided to whistle 'Stop, in the name of love'. Roger looked ready to have an apoplectic fit, when Allan took some pity on him. "Sorry, are you not a fan of the Supremes? How about some Martha and the Vandellas?"

Allan didn't even try to contain his chuckle as Roger got up and stalked over to the copier, with what looked like a few months of copying to do. _And now I have a clear view of Lambert's office, as well as the rest of the place. Where would be the best places to bug?_

The rest of the day passed up uneventfully with Allan recording the actions and conversations of his coworkers to try and get a better grasp of them and their possible involvement with the Black Knights. All of this was done with the help of a small notebook kept under his paperwork and the occasionally whistled tune to the annoyance of Roger Stoke. Lambert never once left the office except for Annie's birthday lunch which was held at the same pub where Allan had lunched on his first day. Otherwise, the door was kept close, and judging by Annie's constant transferring of calls and or taking messages on Lambert's behalf, the man was on the phone practically every minute.

It was time for him to have a phone conversation with his partner. "I think I'll nip down to the store on the corner for my break for a snack and a lottery ticket; I'm feeling lucky. Can I get you anything?" Allan asked Roger, fully expecting to be rebuffed. Sure enough, all he got in response was a grunt at the annoyance.

"Anybody else need anything?" he asked as he headed towards the door.

Everyone responded with various variations of "no, thank you" and Allan headed outside at a quick pace to the telephone box a block down. Double checking that no one else from his office was on the street, Allan popped some money into the phone and dialed the number he had memorized from Will's introductory packet given by the university.

Three rings and the phone was picked up from the other end, Will's voice coming over the line with a professional, "Hello, Professor Carpenter speaking."

"Good day professor, how goes the mutant school?"

"That would be Professor X," Will informed his partner dryly, losing his formal tone. "Do you need anything Allan?"

"Besides a cell phone? I feel positively ancient talking to you from a phone booth, what will the youth of today think of me? I swear I stick out more to the general public now than I would on a cell."

"Cell phones are easier to trace," Will reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah. How is your day going?"

"Not too bad. I actually just met one of my students, Carter. He seems like a decent guy."

"Cool, listen can you do me a favor?"

"And now we get to the crux of the real reason why you called," Will said, the smile evident in his voice. "What do you need?"

"A man I sold a policy to apparently died and Lambert took the case away from me to _handle_ it. Would you mind doing some investigating?"

"No problem. I'll use the computers here at work, just in case they're on the lookout for anyone trying to discover information."

"Thanks, man. That's my little hacker." Allan said fondly. "The man's name is Zachary Stone; Zachary spelled with an h."

"Got it," Will answered. "I'll start with a simple search; there's no reason to open the gut if it's a rash."

"You couldn't have thought of a nicer analogy?" Allan whined.

Will laughed. "I read your report when I got back from my run this morning. Have you learned anything else today?"

"Not much, but Annie is having a birthday party tonight at that club and I'm invited. Maybe I can learn some more then, maybe I'll even see Chief Constable Guy Gisborne."

"Sounds exciting, you are still cooking dinner tonight though, right?"

Allan rolled his eyes, "Yes. Do you have any requests?"

"Not off the top of my head, but I do have an answer for you regarding the dead man."

"Already?" Allan asked surprised.

"Yep," Will confirmed. "I'll do more research into it later, but it looks as though Zachary Stone, age 24, was a student here; a political science major. I'm not getting any other hits on a Zachary Stone in all of Nottingham."

"Was he married?"

"Not according to his school records."

"Well according to Roger, this guy's widow filed the claim. And on the phone the other day, he didn't really sound like a young guy. But if this student really is the mystery dead dude, then we have proof that the insurance company is in bed with the Black Knights."

"I wonder where the money is going exactly. Do you think we could trace it through the banks?"

"I was wondering the same thing. From the sound of it, the banks might be in league with our lovely leather-clad mafia. But it's worth a shot. We might want to talk to the Arrow."

"I've been thinking all day and might have come up with some spying devices for us. I'll talk to Much about supplies and the possible watching of the banks. What was the specific amount of the claim?"

"50,000 pounds," Allan told him. "I better go. I still have to run to the store and buy the snacks and lottery ticket that I said I was going to. Do you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good…actually, pick me up a lotto ticket as well. I could use the luck."

"Will do. See you tonight for dinner," Allan bade him goodbye.

"See you tonight," Will responded, hanging up the phone.

A little luck; that was all they needed. And maybe they would crack this case that was shaping up to be the hardest and biggest of their career. But as Allan thought of Annie and Sarah and his other co-workers (as well as sweet, kind-hearted Djaq), he realized that this case brought another first with it. Never had he been so personally and emotionally invested. And that bothered him.

* * *

A/N: Wow, I finally got out this chapter!!! It took forever, and I'm still not completely happy with it, so reviews/constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. As tends to be the case, I'm getting stuck here in the middle parts even though I have the next bit sketched out. I don't know how long it will take me to get out the next chapter thanks to writer's block and real life keeping me busy. Thanks again to all who have kept with this; it warms my heart to go back and read the reviews and know that this story is received well. Until the next!


	8. Chapter 8

Will hung up the phone staring at the computer in front of him. The face of Zachary Stone looked back at him, smiling broadly at the camera. Was this really the man, no, the kid who had died? Will shook his head, stopping himself before he got into a funk. Luke had once smiled like that as well, had once joked and talked. He had been a kid once, until he and their mother had been in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. Jane Scarlett had died, and Luke had become transformed into a fuzzy reminder of his past self. The boy had not remained so, but neither had he become a man; rather a shadow who melted away from family and found other dark shadows to follow.

A knock on the door interrupted Will's darkening thoughts. He looked up to see none other than the MI-6 self-proclaimed Master of Disguise dressed as a janitor sans moustache. Instead, a pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and a skull cap on his head.

"You couldn't come as a student?" Will asked wryly, beckoning the man into the office.

"I think I look a bit too old, and besides, this way no one bothers me when I enter discarded rooms and the like," Much shrugged, closing the door behind him.

"Is there really a call for that here?" the new professor asked, eyebrow raised.

"No, but you never know," Much responded. "This will be my cover here from now on. See, I've got a badge and everything!"

"Very nice," Will told him with a smile. "And I like the glasses with this disguise. Can I just say, a moustache really don't suit you."

"But I liked the moustache! Djaq, Robin, now you…why does everyone mock me?!" the man protested, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically.

"Sorry, Much. But I'm glad you're here. I just got off the phone with Allan and it seems something has happened."

"Tell me," the agent said, instantly turning professional.

"A man he sold a policy to the other day died yesterday and the insurance claim was filed today by his widow. Lambert took the claim from Allan, saying he was going to handle it himself. The death in itself is suspicious in that the claimant was 24 years old, and died of a heart attack."

"Has A Dale been able to figure out anything else?"

"Not yet, but he's going to that club, the Gryphon, tonight with everyone from work. He believes Guy Gisborne will be there as well."

"That's a lucky break," Much breathed out, eyes round at the thought. "Normally, stuff doesn't go this easy for us, huh. He may be a mean jerk, but it does seem that he gets results. Isn't the Gryphon where he and Djaq saw Guy and the secretary going last night?"

"That's correct," Will confirmed; hesitating before continuing. "He really is a good guy once you get to know him, I'm sure he didn't mean to act like that towards you."

"Yes, he did," Much said in a resigned sort of acceptance. "I've gotten used to it, so don't worry. We have a bigger cause in front of us, I shouldn't…I mean, I'm not bothered by that sort of pettiness."

Will nodded, biting his lip before remembering something. "Oh, and before I forget, I made a list of some supplies I need to design some surveillance gear. Do you have time to pick up the items, today? The sooner we get the stuff, the better. I'll also need some welding gear," Will added as he handed a list to Much.

"This looks simple enough," Much said, quickly scanning the items written down on the paper. "You crafty craftsman, is this really all you need?"

"Yep," Will answered. "But I will definitely need the quantities I have written down next to the items, especially regarding the talking greeting cards."

"Noted," Much said with a salute. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a card and handed it to Will. "I'll get you this stuff as soon as possible. If you need to get in touch with me before then, call this number. It goes to my work phone."

"Um, Much," Will started hesitantly, staring hard at the card. "This card is for an escort service…"

"That's the beauty of the card," Much explained rolling his eyes. "They'll see the picture of a beautiful half-naked woman named Honey, rather than a telephone number to a MI-6 agent. No one will ever expect it."

"No, no one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition," Will said urgently, fighting down a blush. "When they see this, they'll expect me to be some sort of pervert. Even worse, I'll be a lonely, desperate pervert!"

"So, just make sure no one sees it," Much shrugged. "My secretary, Eve, may pick up, so just make sure you ask for Honey, she'll understand. But only use this number for emergencies. If it's not urgent, just wait for me to come to you."

Will nodded dumbly, still staring at the card in his hand as Much left the office picking up his broom from beside the door. He could still hear the disguised agent singing as he swept down the hallway. _What the hell kind of people are we working with?_

..0.0.

Bonchurch "Much" Miller stepped out of his car, straightening the tie that choked off his air supply. Entering the Free Clinic, Much displayed his cheesiest grin to the sour faced man behind the desk.

"Hello, sir. My name is Miller Hunter, and I'm here representing Locksley Pharmaceuticals. I have a meeting with Dr. Saffiya Johnson today."

The man behind the counter looked him up and down, giving a contemptuous grunt. "Are you sure she's expecting you?"

"Yes, as soon as you give her my name, I'm sure she'll remember," Much told the man, who from his previous encounters with the secretary knew of the guy's ornery ways.

"Dr. Johnson tends to have a flawless memory," the man replied. "But I guess I could page her." With a wave of the secretary's hand, Much was dismissed to take a seat on one of the many plastic seats in the waiting room. As Dr. Saffiya Johnson was paged over the intercom, Much nervously played with the handle of his briefcase, eyes constantly darting around the room.

In less than three minutes, Djaq made her way into the waiting room, rewarding Much with her brilliant smile. "Sorry for making you wait, sir. I'm afraid I've been caught in meetings all day."

"I know the feeling," Much responded, shaking her hand. "If you have an hour or so, I'd like to take you out so we can discuss some of the new drugs we have to offer."

"That sounds wonderful; I look forward to your presentation. Thank you for paging me, Roy, if John comes looking for me, please let him know I'll be back in an hour."

Roy grunted a goodbye as the two left the clinic, Much holding the door open for Djaq.

"I had a feeling you probably skipped lunch, so does _Jillian's_ sound good to you?" Much asked as the two buckled up in the car.

"You guessed correctly, it was a bit crazy at the clinic today. _Jillian's _sounds perfect; I do love their Cobb Salad. That is a handsome suit Much, you cut a dashing figure."

"Thank you," he responded, chest actually puffing out.

"But I'm not sure about the wig," Djaq continued. "It makes you look like you should have been one of the Beatles."

"They were trendsetters," Much reminded in a sing-song voice as they drove the streets.

"In the 60's," Djaq responded dryly.

"Anyways, if we can stop talking about my appearance, I'd like to tell you that I talked to Will today," Much interrupted, mock annoyance in his voice.

"And did he have anything to report?" Djaq asked, looking at her hands. "I haven't really had a chance to talk to him in awhile."

"Yeah, he passed on some information from A Dale, involving a suspicious death I might add," Much arched an eyebrow Djaq's way.

"A suspicious death, when in the context of talking about the Black Knights, isn't as surprising as you are trying to make it out to be," she reminded the agent.

"No," he agreed, "but this is the first time we could possibly have hard evidence as that suspicious death has a life insurance policy attached, which happens to be at a place where we have an agent. The name though, isn't bringing up any alerts in our system at work. Eve already ran it through the system, and confirmed Will's suspicions that the only person with that name is, was, a college student."

"Do you think Vaisey is recruiting from the college?" Djaq asked.

"Maybe, it would make sense to try recruiting young and brainwashing them to your ways."

"Brainwashing? You've been watching too many movies," Djaq said. "But I understand where you are going. Who makes better lackeys than young, passionate students in need of cash?"

"You might want to tell Will about this theory, so he can keep an eye out there. Not that he will need the hint probably, that is one smart cookie. He gave me a list today of materials to make all sorts of spy gear, it'll be amazing if he can actually do it. Do you think he'd mind if I watched?"

Djaq laughed at the boyish enthusiasm of Much. "He is a very kind soul," she mused. "I am sure he will not mind the company or the questions."

"So can you ask him?"

Djaq hesitated at that. "Why don't you? It will make more sense if you ask. Or, you could drop off the material and just stay like usual," she teased, poking her friend in the arm. "He does not yet know not to let you in, he probably thinks you'll actually leave; not stay forever eating him out of house and home, or in this case, my house and home."

"Hardy har har," Much grumbled. "He'd be wise to stay away from you if this is how you treat your friends. The rest of us learned too late, my friend. Any news you have to report?"

Djaq looked out her window to hide the hurt that had suddenly sprung up at those words. It was a rare occasion for her to take offense, especially with friends she herself teased, so why did those words hurt?

"Actually, I do," she said, her voice strong. "John pulled me into his office with some exciting news. It would appear that the one and only Councilor Vaisey will be touring the facility in part to John's continued persistence and petitions to gain funding for the clinic."

"That doesn't sound like the Councilor," Much said. "It doesn't sound like him at all!"

"I know," Djaq responded. "Maybe it's for some publicity only. Reelections are coming up in a year."

"You and I both know that he doesn't normally care about the people's vote or opinion for that matter. No one liked him three years ago when he introduced that six percent sales tax increase, and yet he still somehow got reelected. Obviously, he doesn't get into office by the popular vote. He seems to rely on the low-down, dirty, killing, cheating, scumbag method of election."

"Calm down, Robin Jr.," Djaq said with an amused grin as Much started turning red. "You're starting to sound like him with the name-calling popping up in every conversation."

"Sorry, Rob and I grabbed some drinks last night. He went on a bit of a tirade, the Councilor's and the Chief Constable's name came up a few times," Much admitted. "He's…"

"He's what?" Djaq prompted.

"Nothing."

"Much, what is wrong? You can tell me anything, if you wish to talk. You know that don't you?"

Much nodded his head, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. "It's just, he's my friend. My oldest friend, ya know? And to see him like this, Djaq, it hurts, almost like a physical wound. It's also tiring, I feel like I'm going through it with him, and we all know I'm already suspicious enough for ten people. You want the truth? He's becoming more and more obsessed, even slightly paranoid. Even Marian is finding it hard to talk to him. All they do is argue nowadays, which means he takes it all out on me. I would go to hell for that man, but right now, I feel like sending him there myself."

"What can we do?" Djaq shrugged. "How can we save him from himself?"

"I wonder about that more and more everyday. And now with this news about Vaisey coming to the clinic where you'll be; it doesn't bode well."

"As long as he doesn't come up with any crazy schemes…" Djaq started before trailing off and sharing a meaningful look with Much.

"You know he will," Much sighed. "But I'll try and talk him out of it. I think reconnaissance is our best bet what with it being a public place."

"And the fact that John wants to get some media in there to raise public awareness," Djaq added.

"I don't think we'll tell Robin that, it would only make him more eager," Much said.

"He is somewhat of an exhibitionist," Djaq concluded. "I guess the best bet is to finish this case as quickly as possible and get Guy and Vaisey behind bars."

"Before Robin gets himself and us killed." Much sighed again as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. "Well, I could definitely go for a Shepard's pie about now. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," Djaq said. "Let's make this quick though, so I can get back to the clinic and find out more from John."

"Agreed," Much said. "And I still need to pick up that stuff for Will."

As the two stepped out of the car, Djaq stopped Much in his tracks with a simple hand on his shoulder. "You are a good friend, Much. Robin and the rest of us are lucky to have you on our team."

Much ducked his head to hide the tell-tale blush her simple and truthful words had brought. "You'll say anything for a free meal, won't you? But…thank you. Now, let's eat!"

* * *

A/N: Well, sorry it's a bit of a short chapter but I wanted to get it out before I leave on vacation. Thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter, your enthusiasm and kind words really helped spur me on. Also thank you to my wonderful prodders, you guys are helping. If anyone is reading this and also needs someone to prod you along on a certain story or just want some advice/feedback, head over to the Nottinghamshire Scribe Guild Forum. I know I'll help where I can.

Also, thank you guys for your patience. This story really has a mind of its own sometimes and the banter just sometimes pushes back the action. I really didn't mean for this story to become as long as it seems to want to be, but I keep finding myself pushing back some of the things I have planned to happen into later and later chapters. So let me know if any of you would like less banter and more of these action sequences. If not, and you enjoy the banter, then let me reassure you, there is definitely going to be some action in the upcoming chapters, it just might get sprawled out a bit.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: And I'm back from the dead :) Just finished a major move, so it was time to get working on the stories once more. There isn't much more new to this story, and I'm still running into quite the writer's block with this story but hey, here's one more chapter added. Hooray! Reviews and input as always are greatly appreciated.

* * *

Djaq opened her front door and followed her nose to the kitchen where she saw Allan stooped over, pulling a pan out of the oven. With a flash of a smile as he looked over his shoulder, Allan set the pan on the counter.

"Welcome home, Dilly. Is lasagna okay for dinner?" Allan asked in the thickest Cockney accent he could manage. "It's even vegetarian."

"You made vegetarian for me? Thank you, Allan," Djaq said, touched.

Allan shrugged his shoulders as he crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. "Will and I agreed that eating vegetarian for a single meal won't kill us. At least, we hope it won't."

"It will not," Djaq said with a smile. "Where is Will?

"He's up in his room working out some plans and making an inventory. The Master of Disguise came by earlier to bring some of the items Wills asked for. I think he's going to ask later for use of the back yard for his welding."

"He can have whatever he wants," Djaq replied absently. "Is Much staying for dinner?"

"No." When Djaq arched an eyebrow in his direction, Allan amended his statement. "He was already gone by the time I got home, Djaq. I promise I'll play nice when I see him next."

"I will hold you to that statement, Allan A Dale."

"Please do, Dilly. We're almost done here; can you go grab our master engineer?"

With a nod, Djaq left the kitchen and lightly jogged up the steps, hesitating outside of Will's closed door. With a bite to the lip and a resolute nod to herself, she raised her hand and knocked with authority.

"Come in."

Djaq opened the door and peered inside to see Will sitting on his bed, surrounded by various items, scribbling away on a piece of paper.

"Allan wanted me to tell you that dinner is ready," she said, voice steady.

With a quick start, Will looked up in her direction, a strand of hair falling in his eyes. "Oh, Djaq…hi."

"Hello."

"I didn't hear you come home. So dinner is ready?" he asked, setting aside his writing, long legs striding across the room.

"Yes, and it smells delicious," the doctor said as the two began their trek downstairs.

"Allan's cooking always smells delicious, he could be a professional chef if he wanted," Will allowed.

"So what brought him into the CIA?"

"His personality," Will deadpanned. "But his culinary skills don't go unappreciated by me. He even let me help this time; I made the salad."

"I bet it will be the best part," Djaq said playfully, her feet suddenly finding themselves glued to the floor when Will's hand found her shoulder.

"Uh, Djaq, about the other night," the dark-haired agent began.

"Yes…"

"I just want to say that I, I…"

He was interrupted by the more garrulous of the pair, who bustled out of the kitchen, hands full.

"There you two are! Want to help the chef out by setting the table?"

"Of course, Al," Will said quickly, relieving Allan of some of his burden. "What are we thinking letting you do all the work? You'll have strained something by now."

Allan cuffed him on the head with his now one free hand. "Little imp. Didn't you ever learn to respect your elders?"

"As a matter of fact, yes; especially when they cook for me. This looks fantastic, Allan."

"Thank you," Allan replied smugly. "And one of these days, you will learn, grasshopper. Or burn us all down while you try."

"And what about my respect?" Will asked, mockingly holding a hand to his wounded heart.

"It's here, somewhere, buried far underneath my charming sarcasm and wit."

Will rolled his eyes as he finished setting the table, Djaq lending a hand. The three seated themselves at the table, Allan eating the food as though it were about to be taken away from him.

"This is a fine meal, Allan; one to be savored and enjoyed," Djaq said as she herself savored a bite of the lasagna. "From the lasagna to the salad," she added with a small wink towards Will.

"All my meals are to be savored, Djaqie, but tonight, I'm in a hurry. I've got to meet the rest of the insurance gang at that club tonight. While I enjoy the fashionably late entrance, I don't want to miss everything; that would be unprofessional."

Will snorted at this but subsided at Allan's look; however, he couldn't resist one last dig at his friend. "Really, he just needs the extra time to look pretty for his night out."

"Don't pout, Will, you too will learn how to attract women, eventually."

"Ha ha," Will responded dryly. "Do you have a plan?"

"Nope," Allan smirked. "Well, nothing really concrete."

"I hate to interrupt this, and I do want to hear more, but remember that one little rule I have boys? We do not discuss work at the dinner table," Djaq reminded gently.

"Sorry, Djaq," the two boys chorused. Djaq and Will spent the rest of dinner in relative silence, the doctor slightly openmouthed as she watched Allan A Dale inhale his food, seemingly without the need of air.

With a flourished bow, Allan primly wiped his mouth with the napkin, letting out a belch at the end and leaving the table to jog up the stairs. With a shake of the head, Will got up and started to clean off the table, before Djaq took the plates out of his hand.

"Let me, you two cooked dinner," she said.

"It's fine, I don't mind," Will told her, trying to reclaim the dinnerware.

"I mind," she said with a smile. "Consider it a debt of honor."

"It was just dinner."

"Still," she countered.

"Then as honor dictates, I'll help," Will countered back.

"I would like that," Djaq told him softly. "And perhaps you can tell me more about this genius engineering plan of yours."

Will nodded and the two finished clearing off the table, with Djaq washing and Will taking up his drying duties. "Will, since it looks as though it is just us tonight, would you like to watch a documentary with me? It is about the historical and medical impacts of the Black Plague. Plus, Lardner is probably wanting some snuggle time," Djaq said, her big brown eyes opened as wide as possible.

"A documentary of the plague with my very own physician to walk me through the terminology, how can I say no? Especially to Lardner," Will said with his own shy smile. "I'll even pop some popcorn."

Djaq nodded, biting her lip, staring at the sink intently. "Um, Will, about yesterday…"

The pair was interrupted once more by Allan, as he sauntered into the kitchen before striking a model's pose. "Well, wadda think?"

Djaq's mouth really did drop open as she took in the handsome man before her. Allan was wearing a form-fitting, forest green button-down shirt paired with straight-legged black jeans. His hair was tousled and a braided choker necklace completed the look. "Allan, you look amazing!"

"I know, they're all going to be putty in my hands," the agent boasted, his blue eyes more vibrant than ever. "I'm just in the mood for a party tonight."

"Just remember, you're on a job," Will reminded him.

"Spoil-sport," Allan muttered. "Okay, well my cab should be getting here any minute. Are you two kids going to be able to survive without me?"

"We'll manage," Will told him, shoving him towards the door. "Now go do your job."

"Don't wait up for me, mom and dad," Allan waved a cheery goodnight as a car horn honked. The two watched him leave once more, neither looking at the other. They stood there in silence, listening as the cab door slammed shut and the car drove off.

"Popcorn," Will finally said. "We can't forget the popcorn."

"Will, about yesterday…"

"No, Djaq, just please…don't. Not right now. Let's just enjoy the show right now."

"Okay," Djaq readily agreed. "But you do know I am here when you need anything, anything at all."

"I know," Will said, sorrowful eyes gazing into hers. "And when I'm ready, I'll tell you. Everything."

..

Allan's feet couldn't stop bouncing as the cab pulled up in front of the club, the Gryphon. Thanking the driver and handing him a large tip, Allan ran his hand through his hair and walked up confidently to the waiting bouncer.

"Tom Black," he said as the man consulted the list in his hands.

"You're here; go on in," the large man said bluntly, gesturing towards the door, behind which loud. Middle Eastern music blared.

"Thanks, man," Allan drawled, lingering outside. "Good night, tonight?"

"It's okay," the man shrugged. "It can get crazy here sometimes, but as it's a private party tonight, should be pretty easy."

"That's cool; do you do a lot of private parties?"

"Not really, but I guess someone has a lot of clout, none of my business really. I'm just here to get paid."

"Truly spoken, my friend; guess I better make my entrance before they all worry about me and the whole party disintegrates. But if this place is as great as they say it is, I might have to come back later and bug you again, Geoff is it?"

"Aye, Geoff it is, and see ya around, mate," the man nodded with a friendly smile.

Allan smiled back and headed into the dark club, which was designed as a gothic castle. Looking up at the gargoyles that leered down at him, Allan decided to be suitably impressed by the gimmicky theme. He headed towards the bar, done up as a moat, and watched bemused as one Roger Stoke, three stools down, tried to pick up an unhappy looking girl. He continued watching as his tipsy coworker pulled out a business card and when attempting to give it to the unfortunate girl, dropped it in her drink instead.

"Ouch, not too smooth," a voice at his side said. Allan looked at the brown-haired man in the stool next to him, and shared a conspirator grin.

"Not even close," Allan responded. "How long has he been trying?"

But before the smirking, blue-eyed man next to him could answer, another voice split the air.

"Tom, you made it!"

Allan turned to see Annie hurrying his way, a flush upon her cheeks. Being dragged behind her was a sulky dark-haired man Allan recognized as Chief Constable Guy Gisborne.

"Hullo, Annie. Are you having a good birthday party so far?" Allan asked as he greeted her.

"I'm having a fantastic time, thank you," Annie grinned broadly. "I'd like you to meet Guy, the one who made this happen."

Guy just nodded in response to Allan's outstretched hand. Not showing the slightest embarrassment, Allan retracted his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. "Impressive party; you must have quite a bit of sway to get an entire night here for private use. I hear it's the hottest club in town."

Guy simply shrugged in response. "He's being modest," Annie giggled. "Guy is the Chief Constable!" she related, seemingly awed. 'He knows everybody, and everybody knows him."

"Sorry, new in town," Allan apologized to Guy. "And not being funny, but doesn't that get tiresome? Knowing everybody, all that hello and good-bying," Allan faked a shudder. "Wouldn't catch me being that popular," he grinned.

Guy smirked, "It has its occasional perks."

"I'll just take your word for it," Allan said. "So is being a Chief Constable a good job?"

"A lot of responsibility and…"

"And perks?" Allan interrupted with another charming smile.

The corners of Guy's mouth turned upward a tiny bit before catching a glimpse of something over Allan's shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, there's someone I need to talk with," he said. "Police business and all that."

And with that excuse, Guy strode off through the darkened club, swallowed up by the same black as his clothes and the crushing bodies dancing to the music. Annie watched him go, a small frown on her face. "He's always doing that, running off and leaving me behind," she muttered. "Marian probably came," she added bitterly.

"Can't have the birthday girl be unhappy," Allan said, frowning himself on the inside. Guy Gisborne was going to be tough to crack. Perhaps simply undercover wasn't going to be enough. He would have to get in close to Guy's inner circle, maybe even become a double agent. It was something to consider; maybe he could schedule a meeting with the elusive Arrow himself to talk it over?

"There should never be a frown on that pretty face of yours," he continued. "Would you like to dance, Annie?"

"Okay," she said happily. "Just don't try any funny business," she warned him laughing as she shook her finger. "Guy can have quite the temper."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Allan said with a smile as he escorted her to the dance floor. "When will I convince you that I don't like trouble in my life?"

"Somehow, I have a hard time believing that," she said as he spun her in a circle.

"Life does seem to have different thoughts," he agreed; ready to lose himself in the music for once. "But I learned to accept that a long time ago."


End file.
